Trading Shadows
by Silverwing2015
Summary: Shaylar and Abbadon Cousland thought they had their lives figured out. Raised in a noble family, they were already on the path to the rest of their lives. What they didn't know was that their lives were about to be flipped into what seemed to be the bowels of oblivion. Rated T. for language.
1. The Darkest Night

Author's note: So it's been a long time since I've been able to muster up the energy to start writing again, but I had this idea for this story during my second play through of dragon age origins, and I'm going keep going with this story regardless of reviews, though I'd be grateful for feedback and such when one has the time to leave some. And without further interruption, the prologue~

* * *

Prologue: The Darkest Night

She couldn't remember the visuals. Not the visuals, or the smells, or the thoughts running through her head. But she remembered the barking. She remembered the screams from what seemed to be across the hall. That of a woman, that of a young boy who had met his end far too soon. She could remember the sound of her door breaking open, the wood splintering as it was kicked in. Swords clanging just outside of her room, she was finally forced to see.

And it hadn't been much better for him, either. He could hardly hear a thing. It was almost as if the world had been placed on mute as he rushed from his bedroom in the next corridor. He could remember seeing the angry faces of Howe's men, the threat that rested just beneath their maddening eyes. He could see the blood spatter as he drove his sword through another man's chest, the metal shining with spattered flecks of blood where the blade hadn't been driven in. For a moment, he could feel the warm droplets slide down his face, though he couldn't tell if it was blood or tears. "Abbadon!" And finally, he was forced to hear.

But for all it was worth, Neither could think of how it came to this.

* * *

"Come on Abbadon, father said he wanted to see us like twenty minutes ago." Shaylar Cousland commented as she rushed down the halls alongside her brother. Both were dressed in rather formal clothing, Shaylar's long sandy-colored hair tied into a braid, Abbadon was still busy fiddling with the crest on his jacket as he walked just beside her. His own sandy hair was in a mess, not even constant combing able to keep the mass of it down. It was something their mother always nagged him about, but something he never really got around to fixing. Though there was something noticeable about either of them. At each of their hips hung a long sword, as if prepared for battle at any possible moment. Both were raised on sword fighting, learning how to handle weapons. Qualities that would make them perfect candidates to take over the rule of Highever should something happen to their older brother Fergus before their father would pass away.

"You know, I really don't know what you didn't understand about father stressing the word _important_ about twenty-thousand times this morning." Shaylar spoke again, ticking her tongue in the next instance as Abbadon scowled at her. "You know Shay, just because you're two minutes older doesn't mean that you can act like...well...that." He mentioned, finally getting the crest the way he wanted it. Shaylar shrugged.

"Well I mean if you did things correctly I wouldn't have to scold you for it, isn't that right?" His scowl did not cease as he watched her for a moment. But neither twin had been watching in front of them, for it had been moments later that Shaylar felt herself hit a rather hard surface. Metal, probably. It was also in this instance that she felt a strong pair of arms wrap around her upper back, moving to her shoulders as what- whoever it was tried to steady her.

"Terribly sorry, kind of wasn't watching where I was going, happens a lot. Probably also the reason I seem to be a bit lost." Shaylar looked up as the hands ceased to rest on her shoulders, peering up into the face of a rather handsome looking blonde. His armor looked...sort of familiar somehow, like something she'd seen before, but currently she was trying to process a response.

"Does she...happen to speak english?" The man asked as he looked at Abbadon. In response, the second-eldest Cousland man gave him a shrug in return.

"I'm still trying to figure that out myself. Sometimes she talks and all I hear in my ears is this annoying buzzing. Strange, really." The other man blinked, chuckling slightly.

"Well I hope I don't get that answer, I'm afraid I don't speak...'buzzing.'" Abbadon gave him a shrug in return. Funny, he didn't either. It was then that Shaylar seemed to return to earth, because she jumped back slightly. "Sorry about that I was just...um...distracted because I...did you say you were lost?" Abbadon picked up on her voice going up about an octave, though the man didn't seem to notice because he had never heard her speak before. She had done this on several occasions with Ser Gilmore as well. What was it about men in armor? With how she acted she should have been moony over half of Ferelden by now, Thedas even.

"That's right, afraid I don't really come to Highever very often or...at all, really. But I'm looking for the..what was it now? The Audience Chamber? I'm Alistair by the way, bit of a shame that I always seem to forget to introduce myself first." Abbadon half expected his sister to take the lead as far as showing him where to go. But seeing as she was still trying to recover from her blundering silence, he took over after briefly running a hand through his own sandy locks.

"I'm Abbadon, and this is Shaylar. We were just heading there ourselves so we can take you if you'd like. Right, Shay?" Shaylar nodded in response before the two began leading the way, but not before Abbadon got a good look at his shield.

"So, Alistair, what exactly are you here for today anyway, if you don't mind my asking?" Shaylar said when she finally regained her voice. Sometimes it took a while for her to recover, but she seemed fine now. Alistair looked down at her, glad to see that she wasn't all that much of a Chantry mouse as she seemed to be.

"Well I can't really tell you what business I'm on, privacy and all you understand, but I came here with a dear friend of mine. We're looking for something but we needed to speak to the Teyrn." He explained as she nodded.

"Must be some important business." Abbadon mentioned, and if he and this friend had to see his father, it sure must have been. But while Shaylar had no idea what it could be, Abbadon had a good idea after seeing Alistair's shield.

"Certainly. I don't suppose either of you are here on your own business?" He asked, seeming totally unaware that they were the Teyrn's son and daughter." Shaylar let out a hum.

"Hm, what business indeed?"

"So does that mean you aren't going to tell me, or..?"

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." It hadn't been too long after this that they had reached their desired destination, and Abbadon swiftly pushed the door open, allowing both Alistair and Shaylar in before he himself entered. Their father, Bryce Cousland stood at the very front of the room, Addressing who they recognized as Arl Howe. They also knew why he was here. With a possible blight fast approaching, the darkspawn had gotten very...out of hand. Neither sibling was sure to what extent for they never really left Highever, but from what they had heard from Fergus, it was getting pretty bad. When he heard the door open, Bryce turned his attention to where the sound had come from, old eyes glimmering as his children entered.

"Ah, Abbadon, Pup, there you are. I was beginning to think that you got locked in the larder again." He said with a slight chuckle, to which both twins cleared their throats.

"It happened one time, father!" The response said in unison seemed to stir Alistair, who up until this point seemed to be paying no mind to what was going on, probably looking for his friend.

"I know you said the two of you were twins but could you try not to do that it is beyond creep- wait did you say father?" He asked, his tone becoming a bit bewildered as he forgot the rest of his previous sentence. Though for the moment he was ignored as the conversation continued around him.

"Ah." Howe spoke as he turned to Bryce's children. "Sir Abbadon, Lady Shaylar, pleasure to see you again." Alistair watched as both of them bowed respectfully.

"As it is to see you, Arl." Though Abbadon's tone was rather controlled, Alistair could tell that Shaylar seemed to be struggling for the greeting not to turn to something more bitter, though he didn't know why.

"If I knew you were in the Castle today I would have brought Thomas along." He saw her twitch slightly, and apparently he had his answer.

"Ahaha...oh Arl, to what end would that bring us to?" She asked, smiling rather fake way as Bryce and the Arl took a turn to laugh as well.

"She sounds exactly like her mother when she says things like that." Bryce beamed.

"That she should. Anyway, Pup, Abbadon, who do you have with you there?" He asked as he finally seemed to recognize that Alistair was standing just behind them.

"His name is Alistair, he said he was looking for this place." Abbadon answered before Alistair could open his mouth.

"Alistair? Oh! You must be looking for Duncan. I hope the two of them showed you more than a shred of respect Alistair. He is a Grey Warden after all." Shaylar's eyes widened slightly as she looked back at Alistair, who shrugged as a response to meeting her gaze. Though Abbadon, he didn't seem all to surprised.

"Don't you think that would have been nice to mention at the start of our conversation, Sir Alistair?" Shaylar asked as she cleared her throat, wishing to use the proper formality with her father about. Though Alistair grinned mischievously at her in response.

"Sorry, but wouldn't you think that it was worth mentioning that you were Teyrn Bryce's daughter, _Lady_ Shaylar?" the formality was added teasingly, and she sighed, looking from him back to her father.

"We showed him the way here. That's respectful, right?" She questioned, to which Bryce smiled.

"If it pleases Alistair."

"It does." Howe continued speaking as one of the guards came back towards them at the end of their conversation. "Sir, Duncan is here to see you." Bryce gave him the alright to send him in.

"Pup, Abbadon, I'd like you to meet Duncan. He's here today to look for recruits for the Grey Wardens." Bryce explained, Abbadon noticing that Duncan's eyes briefly landed on Alistair, as if to say 'There you are', to which he received a nod in response. They seemed really well in sync.

"Hello, to both of you. Yes I have come today to recruit for the Grey Wardens, with the upcoming battle we need as much help as we can get, though we do only recruit the best."

"Father, do you mean Ser Gilmore?" Abbadon asked, leaning slightly on his sister, who seemed half inclined to move so he would fall over.

"Yes, he is looking into Ser Gilmore." Bryce answered quickly, to which Duncan nodded. "Though I'd have to say I don't think the two of you would make bad recruits yourselves." Bryce interjected before either sibling could speak. "They've...got a lot to learn yet Duncan. On top of that I don't have nearly enough children to be giving away to war." He said, to which Duncan insisted he wouldn't force the issue. Though Abbadon still didn't understand it sometimes. He was just as ready to fight for Ferelden, especially Highever as Fegus was. So why was he different? Why were either of them different?

"As much as I'd love to have you two stay and chat, I have important Business to speak of with the Arl and Duncan alike. But first, I need the two of you to listen." He took a deep breath. "Go find Fergus, and tell him he needs to leave with his troops before me." He explained, looking at them with a newly serious look. "I will be heading out tomorrow morning, and I'll need the two of you here for the castle should anything happen." Shaylar and Abbadon exchanged wearly glances but nodded slowly.

"Yes father." They said together, though both sounded uneasy. Bryce gave them a comforting smile. "I trust in you both." On their way out, they each bowed to the Arl and Duncan, finally to Alistair.

"My Lord." It was said in the same mocking tone towards Alistair as he had used towards Shaylar earlier, to which he smirked at her.

"My Lady." And with that, the both of them were gone from the Audience chamber.

* * *

The rest of the day had been unexciting, other than having to get their Mabari Warhound Bryn out of the Larder before Nan had a heart attack three times over. At that moment, the rest of Shaylar's family was saying goodbye to Fergus, ready for his impending leaving, which would happen only moments after the farwell concluded. But she had not joined them. She couldn't ignore the knot in her stomach. Something was going to go wrong. She had such a bad feeling. And that feeling was preventing her from going to see Fergus. It was then that the door to her room opened, just a crack, and a tiny head peeked in. Oren, Fergus's son and her little nephew.

"Auntie, why didn't you come say goodbye to father?" He asked as Shaylar's mother followed just behind him. She expected her to be angry, but no such expression crossed her regal features. Instead, Shaylar looked down at Oren with a soft smile. "I just...wasn't feeling good. Fergus already has a letter I wrote him a few days ago, it'll be okay." She promised, to which the child seemed satisfied.

"Will you and Uncle Abbadon teach me how to hold a sword tomorrow?" He asked excitedly as she pulled him into a hug. "Sure, Oren. Now go to sleep alright? It'll be late soon." After saying his goodnight, Oren left, leaving Shaylar alone with Eleanor. Her mother came up from just behind her daughter who was still sitting at the vanity, letting the hair out of its binding braid and brushing it out.

"Darling. You have that feeling too, don't you?" There was a long pause of silence before she nodded.

"Yes. But I don't know why." Eleanor at first thought it was about Fergus, and she was about to tell her that Fergus had traveled towards Ostagar under the directions of the Grey Warden Alistair, who had been sent by Duncan to return with him. But her daughter's thoughts seemed to delve much deeper than that.

"Try and get some sleep, and remember I love you, Fergus loves you, all of us do." Without much else to say, Shaylar smiled at her. "I love you too, mother."

* * *

"Mi' Lady, help!" The shriek of a man broke through the still air as Bryn growled sharply at the door to Shaylar's room. She had been woken up by the sound that had been bubbling in Bryn's throat, but the bubbling she was hearing outside her door was totally different. It was the sound of something bubbling inside of someone's throat, the pained cry was silenced though as her door was kicked open, the wood splintering as it was. Bryn held off her assailant long enough for her to throw on the breast plate of her armor, her long sword never too far out of reach. Though this was the first time that it had ever been thrusted into human flesh. The first time she ever heard the squelch of blood as a scream died down. It was the first time she had ever truly had to kill someone. Fencing was one thing but this...the sound of warm blood running cold trickling down her blade, this was not the thing she had wanted.

"Darling! Oh darling are you alright? I heard screaming and I-!" Eleanor burst from her room, clad in full armor, though she paused as she caught sight of the shield on the floor. "T-Those are Howe's men! But what are they doing? Why are they here?!" Without the voice to answer her question, Shaylar turned back, using all her strength to call out. "Abbadon!" She could only pray she was heard, and felt relief flood her moments later as Abbadon came through the door, his own sword glistening with cold blood.

"Thank the Maker..." Her mother breathed. Though angrily, Abbadon threw a shield to the floor. "It seems we've been betrayed." He snorted, all of them pausing to listen to the sounds of carnage coming from outside.

"Wait..Mother, have you seen Oren and his mother?" Shaylar asked quickly, though she found her feet moving to the door to Fergus's room. Though she wasn't prepared for what she saw on the other side, maimed bodies laying on the floor. Her eyes welled with tears and she quickly shut the door as her mother approached.

"Darling, what happened? Are they there? Why are you crying?" Shaylar swallowed, looking at Abbadon who understood immediately and grabbed his mother by the shoulder softly.

"No mother, they aren't. I'm sure ser Gilmore helped them escape. I'm sure they're somewhere safe." Abbadon nodded.

"But we need to get going. I never heard father go past my door, he didn't come to bed?"

"No, he didn't..."

"Then we need to find him, come on."

* * *

The fight to get where they were going was brutal. Slain bodies of Howe's men, people they knew, and even simple servants were strewn across the floors and corridors as they tried to make it to the kitchen. The service exit would be their saving grace. Abbadon hadn't wanted to leave. But Shaylar and Eleanor had convinced him they needed to save the Cousland line, and that could only happen if they remained alive. But Shaylar wished it could have been different. She tried to keep herself in check. But every turn, every corner elicited more and more streaks of tears from her eyes. It was too much carnage. Everything she knew was being destroyed.

She almost lost it when they found Nan dead on the floor of the kitchen. It seemed she had put up a meager fight as a pan lay abandoned next to her body, flecks of blood still fresh on it. She, Abbadon and her mother were all covered in blood themselves, some of it their own, a lot of it their enemies. Abbadon swallowed hard. He could almost feel Shaylar breaking down, but now was not the time to deal with it. Bryn sniffed the door to the Larder, which would lead them to the Servant's exit. And he began to whine, something Abbadon knew instantly was not a good sign.

And when they opened the door, his thoughts were confirmed as his father lay in his own pool of blood, dying at a rate that seemed terribly slow.

"Bryce!" Eleanor called as she ran to him, kneeling beside him and bringing his head into her lap. Both Abbadon and Shaylar ran in after her. "Father?! What happened?" Bryce's breathing was ragged but he finally gained the strength to speak. "Howe's men...almost...did me in then and there..." He breathed as he clenched his wound tighter. Abbadon gripped his sword, they had been too late. It was then that Duncan showed up, stopping just behind the twins. "Teyrn..." He spoke, though it was only just above a whisper. Painfully, Bryce looked over to him.

"Duncan...P-Please...Get them...to safety..." Duncan walked between Bryce's children, kneeling to come close to eye level with the Dying Teyrn.

"Of course...but as selfish as this seems, I have a request...I have come looking for recruits and this war..both between people and the darkspawn has become more apparent than ever...one or both, I'll need Abbadon and Shaylar as recruits. To fight their way to you, they must be strong. Some of the best I'd say." Despite his state, Bryce struggled to smile with pride for his children.

"I...I understand." Duncan turned back to the two of them, smiling almost sympathetically. "Then please, join us. Join the Grey Wardens. Both siblings nodded numbly as he said so, before he moved to let them have a chance with their father.

"Father I'm so sorry..." Shaylar began. "If we had just..." But Bryce shook his head as he took her hand.

"There is nothing you could have done. I have always been proud of you...I will continue to be so." He said the same to Abbadon as he put his hands over his sister. Eleanor looked up to Duncan.

"Duncan, please take care of my children..." She started. "I will only slow you down if I come and I...I can't abandon Bryce." Each part in the room seemed shocked as she made this declaration.

"Mother you!-" But she quickly silenced Shaylar. "Please. You must go with Duncan. I will fight off every one of these Bastards that comes my way."

"Mother, Father, we love you both so much." Abbadon finished for his sister as he took his mother's hand. "And I the both of you. Live. Become Grey Wardens. You'll be...the greatest heroes in all of Ferelden. And I..." she couldn't finish her sentence as the gates broke open. Bryce closed his eyes and their mother smiled.

"We love you both...Goodbye." The twins felt a rough force pull them up by their shoulders, and the next thing they were aware of they went flying through the service exit, Duncan and Bryn right behind them as the door slammed shut. The sounds of fighting faded away slowly, but the last thing they heard was their mother scream.


	2. News Like Wildfire

**Chapter 1: News Like Wildfire**

* * *

She had stumbled somewhere after they had gotten far enough. It was like Shaylar's legs had just given out from underneath her, and she tumbled to the floor in a mess. He had tried her best to comfort her, but she had been in complete shock. Her shouts of agony and loneliness had been more than he could bare. Abbadon hadn't known what to say or do that would make her feel any better, because he was feeling the same way and didn't know how to make it stop. But his emotions were all bottled together. He had to remain strong for her now. They were all each other had now. Now he was walking side by side with Duncan, far from Highever, watching his sister who was now asleep on his back.

"Duncan...what exactly happens now?" Abbadon asked slowly, causing the well-built man to turn his head. Duncan seemed thoughtful for a moment, his eyes meeting Abbadon's own sea-green, which right now he imagined seemed like an abyss. He had his mother's eyes, and everyone always told him that. He just wasn't aware how much he was going to miss hearing it until now. "Now," Duncan spoke finally, after what seemed like an eternity. "You become a Grey Warden." He said simply. Though there was stronger emotion underlying in his statement that Abbadon probably wouldn't have caught had it not been for the fact that he had a far greater amount of emotion coursing through him. It was hard, but he knew Duncan was right. It was his mother's last wish, one of the last things she had hoped for, both for himself and for Shaylar. But were they really fit to be Grey Wardens? That he wasn't sure of.

"Nervous, are you?" Duncan asked, bringing Abbadon out of his chain of thought. He continued looking at him for a moment before looking down. "You could say that. I'm just...not sure if I'm cut out for it, that's all. And Shaylar too, she-"

He couldn't finish as Duncan cut in. "I can warn you the path to becoming a Grey Warden is not easy. But you and your sister are two whom I've been watching for quite a while. The way you handle can handle swords is that of an art."

"Our father had been teaching us for a rather long time. We practiced a lot, both against each other and the dummies in the training yard. I guess we were never much for sitting still. Our mother told us several times not to disturb the soldiers while they practiced, but we usually jumped right in." Duncan seemed to note the fond yet forlorn tone within the Prince of Highever's voice.

"I am from Highever, you know. The Teyrn and Teyrna were very fair people, for as long as they ruled within the castle." There was a lost look in Abbadon's eyes as he nodded. "Yeah, they really were." Duncan looked back at him with slight Sorrow. "...You needn't worry any longer. The Wardens will take care of the two of you now." Abbadon wanted to believe that, though he felt something in the tone of Duncan's voice was a bit...misleading.

* * *

She remembered the sound of his voice. The way he used to laugh. How he would rub her back when she was upset. His sage advice. It was like she had taken it all for granted.

 _"Pup! there you are! Never late when it comes to dinner are you?"_

He had been calling her pup for as long as she could remember. Shaylar had always loved it because it was his way of showing her affection, showing her that she stood out among the lot of people he dealt with every day. Abbadon had grown out of the nickname, but it was something little boys didn't want to be called forever.

 _"Now Pup, give them a chance to keep up will you? You could do with lowering your arm a bit with the next swing."_ His advice to her had always been solid, even though she rarely heeded it. She was his "Fierce Girl", the kind of Princess that wasn't afraid of mud, bugs, or swords.

Though she known her mother always wished that she carried herself with a little more finesse. She had always wanted her to appreciate fine clothes, Jewels, and the softer arts a woman was supposed to know of, like cooking. Nan, Castle Cousland's cook, had been teaching her how to cook, but even during those lessons she usually wished to be out and practicing with Abbadon.

 _"Oh Darling, there isn't a suitor who can handle you just yet, but we aren't giving up!"_

She hadn't resented her mother, they just had very different viewpoints. But she only wished she would have mentioned that she loved her a lot more often. Because now she was gone. Her soft voice and silky tones were something that she would never soon forget.

 _"I love you. You and your brothers are our greatest treasures, love."_

Both their parents had never put their children on the back burner. They always had their thoughts and feelings looked after, if they were sick, their parents were always there. And in their moment of need, they couldn't even have been there to defend them to the end. And Fergus?...What of Fergus? He was still unaware of the Tragedy back home...or had Howe set up a trap for him as well. She couldn't care to think about it anymore.

* * *

"So then...you and your sister are the only surviving Couslands then?" On their way into camp, Duncan and Abbadon had run into the King of Fereldan, Cailen. It was there that Abbadon learned they had to train for the battle even faster than anyone had thought, and that was why as soon as Shaylar was on her feet again, they'd be put through something called a "Joining", which was an important part of a Grey Warden's life. It was how they would come to be Grey Wardens.

"Yes, my king. But you said that our brother had made it here, correct?" The King seemed to realize that he had forgotten, and nodded. "Ah yes of course. He and his men are out scouting the Korcari Wilds right now, but I'm sure you'll be able to see him after the battle." he added. "And then I promise, as soon as we've won, I'll turn my men north. Arl Howe will pay for what he has done." Abbadon bowed to the king again.

"Thank you, my liege. I am sorry you had to learn of Howe's treachery in this way."

"No, it's quite alright, he won't get away with it." They were all still huddled in the medicine tent when they heard the sounds of stirring on the cot. Sea-blue eyes opened and slowly, Shaylar sat up, looking around. "F-Fergus? Where's Fergus?" her voice was a little raspy, but Abbadon went to her all the same.

"Fergus is fine. The king says that he is out scouting with his men in the wilds and-"

"That's too dangerous! He'll get hurt! Or-Or..." She was silenced when Abbadon put a hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath and then looked up as if she had just noticed the king standing there next to Duncan.

"Oh...I apologize my liege I just..." But at her apology, the king only smiled sympathetically.

"Don't worry. I understand the loss you've suffered is great." She nodded after a short time of bowing, and then looked at Duncan.

"D-Duncan...where are we?" Duncan moved to stand at her side.

"Ostagar. You and your brother will become Grey Wardens as soon as you are able to be on your feet." The three men watched as she looked down. She quickly remembered the silent promise she had made to her mother as they ran. Though she was interrupted by that thought as a barking erupted, something big and brown darting through the tent and into the cot.

"B-Bryn?! How did you get here?" Shaylar asked in disbelief. Abbadon smiled only slightly at the exchange.

"He came after us. It seems he couldn't bare to leave you." As the hound settled, King Cailen made his presence known again.

"A Mabari War Hound? I'm surprised you own one, they're hard to keep as family pets." Shaylar looked up at him.

"He's been protecting me since I was little. My father got him after a ransom incident when I was five." Duncan nodded, having heard about that many years ago. The King gave a final nod.

"Right, I must be off. Lohgain wishes to bore me with his strategies again." Duncan and the two Warden initiates bowed to him as he left the tent, before Shaylar got to her feet and Duncan looked to the both of them.

"Why don't the two of you explore camp for a while? Get used to it and then come find me. I'll be waiting in the Southren part of camp for you when you are ready. There are two other initiates aside from the two of you. If you find them let them know to meet me as well. Your Mabari can stay with me in the meantime." Bryn barked again and watched as the two took off from the tent, ready to figure out exactly where they were and what environment they were dealing with.

* * *

"What do you think they do around here for fun?" Abbadon asked sarcastically as he watched a member of Cailan's army smashed a war hammer against a training dummy.

"That." His sister answered as she walked along beside him, her arms crossed lightly over her chest. She moved for a moment to gently finger the bandage on her face, but then lowered her arms again. Abbadon's fingers were twitching. "I...I think I'll join them for a bit. See what you can find around here, sis." He said before he walked over to speak to the others.

"Hmph..." Her tone was a bit snarked, but she was looking at him warmly enough. She knew he wanted to vent some frustrations, so as he went to do that, she turned to do a bit of exploring for herself. And Ostagar was really such a huge place, she found herself amazed at all of the different places there were to go, things to see. So impressed that she nearly knocked into a woman, whose hands were currently glowing blue as she bent over a bucket of some sort.

"Oh I'm sorry, you- a mage?" The words had stumbled out before she could control them, and the old woman looked up, pale face and wrinkles making her gaze stand out. "Yes, may I help you? Or do you have an issue with Mages, young lady?" She asked as the mesmerized initiate watched her hands stop glowing.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like that. But...aren't mages-" Before she could finish the sentence, the mage nodded.

"Usually. But I come from the Circle of Magi. We were called to this rabble by the king himself." Shaylar nodded in understanding.

"I see, I'm sorry I got off on the wrong foot there." The Circle was something that most of Fereldan knew well, a lot of mages that served...pretty much as they were told, from what she understood.

"Likewise. My name is Wynne, and I'm pleased to meet you." Shaylar held out her hand.

"I'm Shaylar, I'm-"

"The new Grey Warden Initiate, yes?"

"...How did you know that?"

"News spreads around this camp like Wildfire, my dear, it exploded when they heard that Duncan was returning with not one, but two recruits." Though, from what Shaylar understood, no one else aside from the king had heard what had happened at Castle Cousland. She nodded.

"So..are you here to fight in the battle with the king as well?" She asked, strangely curious about the older woman.

"You can say that..though I myself am not directly involved in the battle. We're here to assist in enchantments to weapons and armor, and few of us will actually be led into battle." She blinked slowly. So only a few of them would be directly involved in the battle itself.

"I've actually always been interested in magic.."

"Sometimes it can be more of a burden than it is worth, but the strong bare with it." Wynne answered. For some reason, Wynne made her feel...calmer. Her hands had stopped shaking against her arms for the first time since she had awoken.

* * *

"Hah!" Abbadon's voice was gruff as the blade of his sword sliced against one of the many training dummies in the field. He was breathing hard, sweat beading at his neck, but others noticed the look in his eye had greatly improved from how it had been when he started, which was absolutely filled with rage. He lashed out at the dummy again and panted as he moved his sword to the side.

"Wow, you're really good with a sword." One of the other army men mentioned as he caught the end of the sword glinting within the sunlight. It had been a while since he had split from his sister, letting her explore on her own, and he had vented a lot of his frustration on the dummies of the field, and he smiled slightly at the man who had complimented him.

"Thank you. Years of practice." There was a clapping behind him that forced him to look. A rather tanned, roguish looking man stood there, grinning almost ear to ear.

"What a show that was! You must be the one that Alistair Ser Jory and I about." He said happily, walking over to Abbadon and clapping his back. "Well...one of em' anyway."

Abbadon raised an eyebrow. What in the world was he talking about. "Ahem...not to be rude or anything like that, but how do you know of that? Or rather, how does he know about that?" He had known that Alistair, the name he had heard the young man say, had been to Highever the day before with Duncan, but he had left before the attack in order to lead Fergus to Ostagar. So how did he already know that Duncan had chosen he and his sister as recruit.

"Mud in your ears? Alistar told me and the other initiate about you."

"So you must be...?"

"The name is Daveth. Looks like we'll be buddies for the rest of this initiation eh? Not for nothing." Daveth lazily placed an arm over the young Cousland's shoulders, leaning in to whisper. "But this whole 'joining' thing gives me the creeps."

Raising an eyebrow, Abbadon crossed his arms. "I'm Abbadon. How so?"

"Well I mean they're bein' all secretive about it. But just yesterday I was sneaking around camp at night, and I heard em' talking about how they were gonna send us out into the wilds. I don't know why but because there's something they ain't tellin' us, it makes my nose twitch." Abbadon thought about it. For some reason earlier, he hadn't trusted Duncan's tone, as if he was hiding something. But since Daveth seemed informed something like that might happen, it only made him further question that Duncan had been telling them the entire truth.

"I guess it's a little strange, but there isn't any escaping it is there? So you watch my back, and I'll watch yours okay?"

"You know..." Daveth mentioned, with a slight whistle. "You know as lovely as I'm sure your back is, I heard the other recruit was a woman, maybe I could watch her back instead.." Abbadon looked at him flatly.

"That's my sister." Daveth raised an eyebrow.

"So do I have your permission to-"

"Daveth." Venom leaked into the name as it was said.

"Right come on, I'll show you around."

* * *

Shaylar could really hardly believe the size of this place. By the time it was time to make her way back to Duncan, she had no idea where she was, or how to get back to where he said he would be. It was getting darker, too. She looked around, sighing as she succumbed to the fact that she was lost, and too nervous to ask anyone where she should be going. So she kind of just stood there in front of what seemed to be a prison hold, lightly chewing on one of her own nails.

"Psst...I don't suppose...you have some bit of kindness in you, do you?" she nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice just behind her, looking back to find the source of the sound and resisting the urge to pull her sword from its sheath. She spotted a prisoner hanging up in one of the cages, and placed her hand on one of the bars.

"That...depends on what you're in for." She answered, looking up at him with inquisitive blue eyes. He bit his lip, looking away for a moment. But she was resolved. He wasn't getting any kindness until she knew what he had done.

"I was...accused of being a deserter. I-" But Shaylar cleared her throat. Good, he wasn't some kind of murderer then.

"I don't need to hear any other details, thank you. What do you need?" The Prisoner seemed surprised, but didn't dare question the kindness that he was being shown.

"Please, they haven't fed me since I was locked up. They won't give you any food, but the Prison Guard has some, I saw him put it away earlier."

"Good, wait here." She wasn't aware someone else was watching her as she walked over to the guard, conversing with him until he finally gave up what she had been looking for. She walked back and handed him a skin pouch of water and a wrapped portion of food.

"Oh, Oh thank you, there truly is good in the world. Maker smile upon you today." She nodded at him kindly.

"Do you...always feed anyone that asks you for food like that?" She heard a familiar voice only to find herself face to face with a blonde haired, amber eyed man.

"Alistair?" She asked, tilting her head in confusion, before recollecting herself with a clear of her throat. "Yes well, those that I can feed anyway. What, gonna tell on me?" She couldn't help her voice sounding teasing, for whatever reason, though he seemed to simply snort it off.

"Well you know, I'm not going to go squealing to Duncan like a wailing Nug if that's what you're asking." He responded, the same amount of tease in his voice. Though he seemed to freeze, pulling her away from the side of the cages before touching his fingers to the bandage on her face. When she cleared her throat again as if to question him, he flushed a light pink before pulling it away.

"Ahem...what happened?" He asked, though he noticed her expression change immediately upon him asking.

"I...don't want to talk about that now, but I'm assuming you know we're the new initiates, Abbadon and I."

"So I heard. I...kind of wish the king wasn't rushing this battle so much. I mean it isn't like one battle is going to make the drive the Darkspawn back, right? I'm not crazy, you think that too?"

"Well I don't know, the King seems pretty sure about it."

"Ah yes." Alistair said, his voice dripping with Sarcasm. "I'm sure they'll realize that a few hundred humans are nothing for a thousand plus horde of evil blood-lusting monsters to laugh at, and we'll all be eating scones and drinking tea in no time. There was a long pause of silence.

"..."

"...I could feel that sarcasm, Alistair."

"Nasty Habit I suppose. Either way I was sent to collect you. The other initiates are already waiting with Duncan."

"Already?" Alistair grinned at her, fully aware of the fact she had no idea where she was.

"You're the only one we couldn't find." He let out a grunt as she whacked him in the shoulder before silently following along at his side.


	3. To be a Warden

**Chapter 2: To be a Warden**

* * *

"I've found Shaylar, Duncan." She heard Alistair mention as they entered the area Duncan had mentioned he would be when they returned from their exploring. However, she hadn't expected that they would be out for so long. But the camp was so large it was...almost ridiculous. She was sure at some point she had almost accidentally wandered right into the King's tent. She couldn't honestly tell what was what around here. The Medic's tent looked the same as the King's, one area looked exactly like the other. Did it change when you were a Warden or something? No, that was a pretty silly thought, she was sure. She was just really bad with directions when it came to anything that wasn't the cousland Castle. She spotted Abbadon standing among two other men. One of them was taller than the men that flanked either of his sides. He looked middle aged, balding...sort of. His lips were drawn into a thin line and he somehow looked more nervous than everyone else standing there, his eyes shifting in different directions.

Shaylar rested a hand over her breastplate as she continued to glance around, while Duncan was speaking to, or rather chiding Alistair over something he had done...something about pissing off a mage by delivering a message from the Chantry. She didn't know too much about the relationship of the Chantry and the Circle of Magi, but she knew it wasn't a very good one. But she took to time to look at the other man she hadn't recognized. He was lean, pretty well built, dark skin and hair, though his eyes were a soothing caramel that brought his whole look together. When he caught her looking at him, he smirked at her, though she quickly averted her eyes only to end up locking gazes with Alistair, who blinked at her.

"Are you quite done spacing out?"

"...Is that why everything got so quiet?" Duncan asked Abbadon if he'd like to introduce Shaylar to the other two initiates, and he nodded.

"Shaylar, this is Daveth, and this is Ser Jory. They're the other two recruits we were told about." He explained, to which she nodded. Maybe she should have been standing next to them, but it almost seemed like she was processing things more slowly than usual, and instead she remained at Alistair's side. Hopefully the other recruits wouldn't think that she thought she was special or something like that. She wasn't Lady Cousland anymore. She was just about as average as everyone else sitting here with them.

"Duncan, what do we have to do for this...joining?" Abbadon had always been straight forward in about everything he did. He didn't like to beat around the bush, and Shaylar could easily tell that her brother as well had nerves swelling. Duncan looked at them all squarely.

"For the joining, we will need four vials of Darkspawn Blood." Shaylar raised an eyebrow.

"And how are we supposed to do that? 'Hello , don't suppose you would mind if we take a few quick samples of your gross, poisonous, jelly-like blood do you? Great, we'll take four.'" The men paused to look at her, and she pursed her lips. Though Duncan didn't seem in bad spirits about the rather un-thought out comment, he didn't say anything because he saw Alistair opening his mouth.

"Well that's how I did it, dear lady. Just...with my sword...and I didn't ask...I just kind of...killed it." He mentioned, causing Shaylar to shrug.

"Well my lord, you'll just have to show me how to do it then."

"It would be a pleasure, my lady." Not that he was looking forward to seeing a Darkspawn again however, that was for sure. Duncan cleared his throat.

"If you two are quite finished." He sighed. "I am sending Alistair to help the four of you through this, however, there is something else that I need you to do. Out in the wilds, we have an old base for Grey Warden Operation. A chest that rests there, sealed with a Grey Warden's magic carries some important documents that we need back, so please take the time to retrieve those too.

"Another reason Alistair is needed, I'm guessing?" Abbadon added, to which Duncan nodded.

"Only a Grey Warden can break the seal." Daveth and Abbadon glanced at one another with slight nods.

"When you're ready, meet up at the gate. The guard will let you through, I've already spoken to him." The initiates nodded, and each separated to prepare for what Duncan warned was at least a day's journey. The impending battle would be in a few days as well, so they were urged to get this done quickly.

* * *

"Abbadon?" Shaylar questioned at the two walked, each with a pack strapped to their backs. On one side of their hips, rested long swords ready to be drawn at any minute, and within reach, each had one shield, adorned with the Cousland Family insignia. Some of the only things they still had left from the castle, family heirlooms which they had collected in a haste.

"What's up, Shay?" He asked as he adjusted the pack on his back.

"Do you think we'll find Fergus out in the wilds? The King said he was here, didn't he?" There was a weak hope in her voice, and Abbadon slowed to a stop though the gates and their partners on this journey were still several paces ahead. He turned and swept his slightly protesting sister into his arms. Though she squirmed, she eventually settled and closed her eyes, feeling safe wrapped up in her brother's warm embrace.

"He could be but..don't get your hopes up. Alistair told me that the wilds are a very expansive place. But just because we don't see him, it doesn't mean he's not alive." Shaylar inhaled shakily, calming herself before nodding, moving from Abbadon's grip and adjusting her pack one more time before they made it the rest of the way to their fellow initiates.

"Family friendly moment?" Daveth questioned as he looked them up and down, particularly Shaylar though she hadn't noticed it, Abbadon gave him a look and he quickly averted his gaze to Ser Jory. Satisfied, Abbadon nodded. "You could say that." Alistair responded by clearing his throat as the gate opened.

"Well if you're all quite ready, shall we?" Abbadon was the first of the initiates to venture out of the open gate.

"We're ready if you are." He answered over his shoulder. Shaylar began following after Abbadon, turning back and bowing mockingly to Alistair.

"Shouldn't you be leading, my lord?" She asked, to which he raised an eyebrow, snorting slightly.

"I said I was coming with you, I didn't say I'd make it easy by leading you to where you should be going."

"Hm, I figured you leading would make it harder." The other initiates gave a hesitant nod, and Alistair paused.

"...Thank dear Andraste I'm not the only one who thinks that's a bad idea." He answered finally, following as Daveth and a hesitant Ser Jory made their way through the gate. Not one of them notice something else leave camp and slip into the bushes.

"So Ser Jory, you mentioned you had a wife?" Abbadon said, cutting the silence between the group as they trekked through the start of the wilds. He found the ground rather sticky beneath his feet, and watching his sister stumble through the mud just between Alistair and Daveth, however amusing confirmed that he wasn't the only one feeling it. He was lucky his sister had taken more of an interest in mud, bugs and swords than she had dolls, puppies and tea parties. Well...she liked puppies, if you could really consider a Mabari War Hound a puppy at any age aside from a newborn.

"Yes I did, and even better, she has recently found out that she's with child." Though seeming disinterested in the conversation up until this point, more or less trying to find her balance in the mud, he saw Shaylar look up.

"Oh? That's pretty great, congratulations!" He said with a slight smile towards the larger man. It was clear that Ser Jory had a lot more to protect than just his own life. Just like he did. He had to protect his sister, and he could understand now Ser Jory's reason for wanting to go through all of this for the title of a Grey Warden. The one he wasn't sure about was Daveth. Was it pure want for a fancy title? He had mentioned that he was a cutpurse in his old village, in fact Duncan had saved his life by recruiting him. Or was it truly Daveth himself wanting to protect people from the blight?

"Mother always wanted me to have children. She wanted grandchildren to dote on. Of course she took some of the heat off me when our brother Fergus had a son, but she still never stopped insisting I get married as soon as possible." he zoned back in upon his sister's words, a smirk appearing on his face.

"I think you knew more about Darrien than Darrien knew about Darrien." He added helpfully, earning a hearty groan from his sister.

"Ugh...Lady Landra wouldn't let me hear the end of it, every Salon appointment... 'Oh Lady Shaylar, do you know what Darrien did yesterday?' or 'Do you know what Darrien's favorite color is?'" There was a long pause before Alistair broke it.

"...Did you know what it was?"

"It was sky blue. It was also why he liked robin eggs so much."

"Do you remember the time she tried to get you to marry Ser Gilmore?" There was a long moment that Shaylar spent choking on whatever she was going to say.

"I'd have preferred Rory over Darrien." She answered carefully. The others seemed lost, and the twins cleared their throats.

"Hey." Daveth finally said. "Why do you two keep speaking in a past tense anyway? 'liked' , 'knew', just curious." Both twins fell silent at the same moment, and Alistair watched them carefully, his own interest still not waiving from when he spoke to them earlier. Finally, Abbadon cleared his throat.

"Because they're dead now." He answered before he trekked ahead. The remaining two initiates glanced at Shaylar, but she simply averted her eyes, dropping back by Alistair who at this moment seemed to for once recognize that it was time to keep his mouth shut.

* * *

Warm blood slid from his sword as Abbadon sliced open thr throat of another wolf. They hadn't gotten much farther when they were assaulted by a pack of hungry wolves. They were snarling and snapping at the group, but cold steel proved too much as most of the beasts fell. Though as Daveth was about to attack one of the final wolves, he was stopped by Shaylar shouting, grabbing onto the wrist of the hand that held his dagger.

"Hey! Shaylar what are you doing?!" The others turned to look at her and Daveth, the other wolves having been downed already. The wolf was still growling, but it had backed away, eyes still trained on the group. She grabbed his other wrist and held him steady in front of her so he could look down at her.

"Daveth she's pregnant!" She motioned to the wolf, Abbadon and Alistair now taken note of her swollen stomach.

"Yeah and? She's trying to kill us. I don't think the term baby on board applies here." He mentioned dryly.

"Daveth, don't..." he hadn't expect her to plead with him, her eyes filled with sympathy for the pregnant wolf who had moments ago been trying to kill them. He stared down at her.

"...I wouldn't be thinking about it if you didn't have such a pretty face." She let his wrists go and he sheathed his dagger. Abbadon knew she was still in shock. Almost anything would remind her of their mother, or their father. Whether it was the fact that this wolf was a mother-to-be, or that wolf pups reminded her of her old nickname, she was determined not to kill this wolf. Instead he watched her reach into the pack pocket and pull out a small slab of dry meat, tossing to the wolf. Knowing it was outnumbered, the wolf snapped it up before vanishing into the bushes.

"That was pretty reckless." Alistair commented as he walked up to them.

"I can do worse." she promised, to which Alistair groaned.

"Maker help me..." he muttered, a hint of his usual playfulness as he urged the group on ahead. The wilds were really huge, and he wondered if Fergus was really okay, wandering around in all of this. All this, and he still had no idea what had happened to them, their family. It was truly a lot to take in, and he hadn't gotten the chance to register it himself yet, truly.

* * *

Of all things, they had to pee. Somehow, the three of them at once, collectively had to pee, leaving herself and Ser Jory standing guard.. Was it something about this forest, or were half of them peeing out of nerves? She wasn't really sure, but she decided that she really didn't need to know as she leaned against one of the trees, waiting for the men to finish as patiently as possible.

"Are you three done yet?" She asked, Ser Jory looked down at her when Daveth called back that they were not.

"Shaylar...you don't think that any Darkspawn will show up now, do you?" He asked, his tone a bit nervous. She leaned back against a tree, her sword shifting on her waist. "Who knows?" She questioned, looking up at the overcast sky. It seemed to stand out as it grazed the green ferns and dipped into the horizon. Maybe the battle would be over before these men finished relieving themselves. It seemed all too likely. But she wasn't as worried about it as Ser Jory for whatever reason.

"That isn't too encouraging..." Jory muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"No one ever said I was the queen of reading emotions, Ser Jory." She answered quickly, to which he shrugged. Though they both paused when they saw the bushes moving. Her eyes were trained on the movement even as a bald green head with sinister red eyes loomed over the horizion of the bushes. Ser Jory began breathing heavily, and she took a deep breath.

"Oh dear Alistar?" She asked, her voice calm yet sarcastic at the same time.

"Yeeeeees?" She heard him from behind the shrubs.

"...Are Darkspawn supposed to look like sword wielding goblins or am I just imagining the one coming towards us?" She asked, drawing her sword at the same time Ser Jory drew his.

"..." There was a hurried rustling behind them as she watched a couple of more darkspawn, at least one large than the others emerge from the brush. Well, at least they had done well in not seeing some so far. She and Ser Jory charged them once both got their courage up, and it wasn't long before Alistair, Abbadon, and Daveth came charging from the bushes as well. Shaylar blocked a hit from a heavy looking mace with her shield and lunged out, though she found the body of this Darkspawn a lot different from a training dummy, harder to slice through. It wasn't long before she was knocked back.

"Gah! A-Abbadon!" She called almost instinctively. Abbadon seemed to be acting on his instinct as well, because he growled and rounded on the Darkspawn that was about to drive a sword into his sister, her shield being the only thing separating them. As his blade sliced into the monsters thick flesh, she felt something cold and thick ooze onto her cheek. There was a loud thud as the short Darkspawn fell to the ground with a thud, and her brother turned on another one.

She rejoined the fight alongside Daveth, parrying the sword of another darkspawn, but this time catching her sword within the folds of its thick flesh. It was weakened, but not enough not to fight back. She screamed with pain as it sliced its blade into her shoulder, Alistair who was closest to her shouting out her name. It was like that something lunged from the bushes, colliding with the beast and forcing it to fall, allowing Alistair to drive his sword into its head. Shaylar fell to the ground holding her shoulder, but happy to be alive. She felt something nuzzling her uninjured shoulder, and turned to find the happy face of her Mabari hound.

"Bryn?" She asked, trying to process the fact he had somehow gotten out of camp. The dog gave an understanding bark and then a concerned whine as Alistair leaned down next to her, trying to inspect the wound as it was That was what she got for wearing light armor, she supposed.

"Are you feeling alright?" Alistair asked as Abbadon knelt down at her other side, she was able to tell that he was concerned as well. "I'm feeling alright." She answered. "It isn't too deep I just wasn't expecting it." Alistair nodded, for now putting pressure on it so she'd stop bleeding, at the very least.

"I'm surprised it wasn't worse, that was a Greatsword." Alistair explained. "Ser Jory, Daveth, Abbadon, collect the four samples you need, there should be plenty of blood to spare from these Darkspawn alone."

"And why do you get to tend to the pretty girl instead of us?" Daveth asked even though he moved to do as he was told.

"Because I'm not the initiate here." He answered, through Shaylar wondered briefly what Alistair's problem was when she noticed his face was slightly red again. Then again, she hadn't noticed that many women sitting around in the Grey Warden's camp. Maybe everyone here had problems talking to them? She supposed that would change when Daveth was a Grey Warden.

"Alistair?" She asked, though she already knew the answer to ask what she was about to ask.

"Yes?"

"Do you have a fever?"

"No."

* * *

"G-Grey Wardens..." They had come across a Caravan. Though there only seemed to be one surviving member of it, anyway. He was coughing, sputtering what looked like blood. Abbadon watched him with careful gaze. They hadn't been too far from stopping for the night, and this place was plenty more expansive than he had first thought.

"Oh look, he's not half as dead as he looks." Alistair commented from just beside Abbadon, and Abbadon nodded.

"We should at least bandage him up you know. As much as this kind of humor seems to be your...forte." The Cousland suggested, to which Alistair nodded.

"I've got some bandages in my pack." He made quick work of the injuries, enough for the man to stand back up. "My..My Caravan...we were attacked by Darkspawn...I'm the only one left and I...n-need to get back to camp." Daveth and Shaylar parted in order to let the man through as he headed back the way he came. Abbadon noticed the concern in his sister's eyes as she watched him go.

"Maybe we should help him...we have the blood we need, don't we?" She asked, to which Alistair shook his head.

"He'll be fine, we've killed most of the things we considered a threat back that way. Duncan still needs those documents." Shaylar nodded before looking down, seeming to have forgotten all about the second thing they had been sent to get. He wondered if she questioned why they had kept going after they got the blood they needed.

Abbadon looked over at Ser Jory, who still seemed rather nervous. In silence, he seemed to ask him what was wrong as their eyes met.

"...A whole Caravan of seasoned men, gone. And we're supposed to fight these things? How many do you think we'll possibly be able to take down before we're killed? Fifty? One-Hundered?" Abbadon cleared his throat.

"Defeating these things is part of proving ourselves I'm sure." Not to mention how many they'd see for sure during the upcoming battle, the one that was supposedly supposed to end the blight before it truly started. Alistair held his hands up in a gesture to try and calm Ser Jory.

"It's alright Ser Jory. No matter how many we run into I can guarantee you we won't be running into the bulk of the hoard."

"How do you know that?" Came a nervous reply.

"A Grey Warden can sense Darkspawn, that's why I'm here." Abbadon caught the curiosity in his sister's eyes as she looked up at Alistair, though she didn't get to ask the question as he seemed to sense her looking at him and returned the look before shaking his head, as if to tell her that he could mention nothing further. She looked slightly dejected, but she nodded. Out of everything, Abbadon found the oddest thing to be why they were so secretive. Duncan had acted almost the same way as Alistair was now.

"See Ser Jory? If we're going to die at least we'll know it first." Abbadon watched as Shaylar nodded, quirking a sandy eyebrow.

"That's...one way of looking at it." Abbadon watched with a slight twitch as Daveth placed an arm around his sister. He could also hear Bryn let out a jealous bark just behind him.

"Does that mean I get to kiss you as a right of passage to the Maker's side?" He asked smoothly, to which she took a deep breath.

"I mean if you'd like I can send you to the Maker's side early." She answered sweetly, placing a hand on the hilt of her sword, to which he laughed as she pulled from his grip.

"Well played, I like them feisty." Alistair cleared his throat.

"Right well, let's go set up camp. We'll get the rest of the way in the morning."

* * *

"Remind me why I have to cook for you four again?" Shaylar asked as she turned the fish on a makeshift spit over the fire.

"Because you're the only one who's ever taken any sort of lessons. Unless you want to eat Alistair's burned porridge." Abbadon answered, to which Alistair huffed.

"I said I was sorry alright? I didn't expect it to combust like that."

"Neither did we." Daveth added, grinning like a fox as Alistair averted his eyes.

"Oh wow what an interesting thing over there is it time to stop talking about this yet?" Shaylar chuckled lightly from her place by the fire, Ser Jory even taking a pause from pitching the tents to laugh. Daveth looked up at Shaylar as she handed him a cooked through fish.

"So I get to share your tent and bedroll tonight, right?" Shaylar breifly looked to Abbadon, who had bitten into his fish but was clearly trying to avoid standing up in order to punch their companion.

"I don't know what gave you that idea."

"Well we could die tomorrow right?" She stood up to go get the fish for Alistair.

"Yeah and?" She asked in a tone that would tell anyone she wasn't honestly interested. Though Daveth was still grinning.

"I'd be honored if you'd be my last." He finished with a wink. She noticed Alistair was blushing again as she handed him his fish.

"Oh Andraste's flaming Pyre can we stop talking about this?" He asked, to which Daveth smirked.

"Jealous, Alistair?" Alistair bit into his fish.

"No, but this conversation is making my ears blush."

"You forgot about the rest of your face." Shaylar added as she stood up. Abbadon cleared his throat.

"If you aren't going to stop for him stop for me, I'm going to be sick." He said before turning his back, making Shaylar giggle.

"Fine-" Though she paused upon Daveth's sly look. "No, Not fine to you Daveth. We're dropping the conversation and I'm staying in a tent with Bryn."

* * *

She couldn't sleep. She should have been able to. She was tired. She wanted to sleep, but it just wouldn't come. She sat outside the tents long after the men had gone to bed, Bryn laying at her side. She gently toyed with one of his ears, and despite being occasionally startled by it in his sleep, Shaylar's scent alone was enough not to spur him into attack. She looked up at the sky, seemingly starless with the overcast still covering it over. She took in a deep breath. Maybe the maker could feel the world's fear. Maybe that was why there were no stars in the sky tonight.

"I don't suppose the Sandman found his way to you either?" She glanced back to find Alistair walking over to her, something in his hands. She scooted a little closer to Bryn so he could sit beside her, and was surprised to find he held it out to her.

"Here." Was all he said as he released it into her hands. She stared down at it, running her hands across the wood. "It's a...bow?" She asked dumbly as she sat there. Alistair nodded, looking to her wound, now patched together.

"It's not much but...maybe you want to think about using it instead of the sword. I'm not trying to upset you, but you don't have as much power as your brother when you swing a sword..." Thinking that may have sounded offensive, he held up his hands. "I mean that I actually just think you look more suited for long range weapons...not...not that I was looking at you for too long or anything like that! Oh I'm not good at this speaking thing..." However, she smiled at him.

"I think you're right. So I'll give it a shot." She said, before going silent again. For a little while, the two continued looking at the dark forest just below the hill they had set up on. It seemed like they had come such a long way in just a day.

"Do you...want to talk about it?" The sudden break in silence made her look up at him. She wondered for a moment what he was talking about, but then she realized, and her expression changed to a lost one.

"I...Alistair."

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's alright. I'll just go back to-" As he started to get up, she stopped him by grabbing his arm, tightly, and for a moment, they both froze.

"Arl Howe...Howe...killed them. All of them. My family is dead, Alistair. And I don't know what to do." Her voice broke gradually. His eyes locked with hers, and she breathed sharply.

"What am I supposed to do?" Alistair never knew how to deal with a crying woman, but here one was, right now. He dumbly pulled her into an embrace as her breathing grew ragged with sobs. He himself could hardly believe the healthy, happy family he had seen at the Castle that day had all been slaughtered, especially by the Arl he had seen in that same day. It seemed like he and the Teyrn had been so friendly. Alistair didn't understand how people could betray someone they once had given so much trust to. Then again, he had no right to speculate, he didn't know the whole story. What he did know, was that there was a heartbroken mess in his arms right now.

and he didn't intend to let go until she was alright.


	4. To be a Warden II

**Chapter 3: To be a Warden II**

* * *

The next morning was quite welcome by most everyone. The sounds of the wilds, snarls, growls, and the occasional barbaric scream where enough to spur fear within anyone, and it had been clear that even Abbadon was on edge as he exited his tent. He spotted his sister on the far side of camp, conversing with Daveth as they worked together to un-pitch one of the tents, while Alistair and Ser Jory were working on another one not too far away. Daveth seemed interested on the bow and quiver he had now noticed strapped to her back. Upon seeing Abbadon pass, Bryn wagged his short stumpy tail happily, bounding after the Cousland. Though the dog was more or less loyal to his sister, he held some loyalty for all of the Couslands, Abbadon included.

"So what made you want to try Archery all of a sudden?" Daveth asked casually as they continued to work on the tent, so it would roll up and fit on someone's pack. Shaylar took a moment to glance back at Alistair, but he didn't seem to take notice.

"It's hopefully going to be better for me than a sword. Impaling a training dummy is a lot easier than impaling an actual living, breathing thing. So arrows may be a better way to go. They can back their power up with momentum." She explained as she placed the last hook in place that would secure the tent in its rolled position.

"Well that seems fair, though I thought your power was fine. Then again, what do I know about swords? I much prefer daggers myself." Shaylar smiled at him breifly before finally taking notice of her brother standing there.

"Oh, good morning Abbadon!" She said. Abbadon quirked an eyebrow. For whatever reason she seemed to be feeling better than she had in the past couple of days. Though it wasn't a wonder he hadn't heard what occurred late last night. He couldn't really hear anything at all, what with Daveth snoring loudly in the tent just next to his own.

"Good Morning. You sure you're going to be able to handle that bow?" He asked curiously, glancing at it over her shoulder for a moment.

"Oh, yeah I'll be fine. Turns out that Ser Jory knows more about Archery than he seems too! When he saw me trying to practice shooting earlier this morning, he gave me some tips." She explained, to which he nodded. He then looked over to Ser Jory and Alistair, and briefly glanced at his sister and Daveth once more before nodding.

"I see. I really hope it serves you better than the sword did." He said before walking over to the other two.

"Morning Abbadon." Ser Jory said as he began pinning his tent into a roll. "Trust you slept well?"

"As well as I could with Daveth practically snoring in my ear." Ser Jory let out a hearty laugh.

"Having the same issue as me were you? I swear it nearly drowned out all of the noises that were trying their hardest to make me nervous." Abbadon felt if Daveth hadn't been snoring, Jory probably would have been a nervous mess by morning. But he actually seemed strangely calmer than yesterday. Though when his gaze fell on Alistair, he noticed that the man seemed much, much quieter than his usual personality allowed. He seemed deep in though.

"Alistair."

"...Yes?" It seemed to take him a few moments to recognize that he was speaking to him, but when he did he looked up from his current task. Abbadon raised an eyebrow, then gave him a half smile.

"Thanks for looking out for her." He added, motioning to the bow still resting on his sister's back. After hearing the other two speak, there was no doubt that Alistair was the only one who could have possibly give her the bow.

"I...uh...You're welcome?" Alistair seemed to be searching for the correct speech, and Abbadon could only chuckle slightly before going to fix his own tent for the continued journey.

* * *

"Quick Abbadon, move!" Alistair called sharply as the Hurlock Alpha swung its axe in the other man's direction. Abbadon heard the call and rolled from the way as quickly as possible, but he was reminded how close it had come as the end of the axe's blade grazed the back of his leg slightly. The four men had it surrounded, but its armor was rather tough, hard to run a blade through. But they had been making progress in breaking holes through it. The party was breathing sharply, but not too far of a distance away, Shaylar was aiming her arrow, trying to find a part in the armor that the men had weakened enough for a good spot. And finally, she found a good spot at its back, where the armor was now chipped and broken. Letting the arrow fly, it pierced the large creature and it was the final blow that had sent it tumbling to the ground, unmoving. The men nodded at her as she lowered the bow, Alistair looking particularly pleased.

"I knew that would be the right fit for you." She smiled in return.

"So you did."

"You know I'll be expecting that thank you any time now." He added jokingly, to which she laughed.

"I never said thank you? Shame."

"I'll take the thank you even if you weren't directing it at me." They stopped when they noticed that Abbadon seemed to be looking at something a little farther off into the ruins they had entered. Daveth and Ser Jory joined him, and Alistair as well as soon as he got to his feet. A mangled chest sat among the rubble, seemingly the one they had been looking for. Abbadon ran ahead, now that the area was cleared of the Darkspawn.

"Doesn't look like it would hold much now does it?" Daveth asked as the rest of the party caught up to him. Abbadon shook his head as he rustled through the broken pieces. Alistair looked on from in between Daveth and Shaylar.

"Duncan says there was a seal, so how is it all broken like this?" He asked in disbelief.

"There _was_ a seal, but it has long since dissipated, sorry to say for you lot I suppose." The new, feminine voice cut into the air, and everyone was alert as a new presence entered their field of vision. Shaylar watched her carefully. She was beautiful. Deep yellow eyes, pale skin and red lips was a most wonderful combination on this woman. Her Black hair was short, and she could say she was quite taken in by how mysterious she was. Though the men didn't seem quite as caught up. She felt Daveth lightly pinch the back of her neck, having noticed she was a little out of sorts.

"You...what have you done with the documents that were in here?" Abbadon spoke clearly, to which the woman didn't seem surprised. It was like nothing phased her.

"A better question, it seems after all, you were wandering through my wilds, as it 'twere...is why _you_ are here. I've been following you for a while now. 'Where are they going?' I wondered, 'Why are they here?' it seems I finally have my answers." Alistair was on edge as well, fingers not leaving the hilt of his sword.

"She looks Chasind, be careful, there might be more around." She let out a slight snort.

"What? Afraid the barbarians are going to swoop down on you from above, are you?" Alistair kept his eyes trained on her.

"Yes, Swooping is bad." It wasn't a moment after that Daveth chimed in.

"She's a witch!" Ser Jory gained his nervous look again as a smirk appeared at the woman's lips. She seemed amused, despite all of the threatening looks she was getting. This was some kind of game to her, and Abbadon could tell she was enjoying it. And then, her gaze fell on his sister.

"Tell me, you mustn't scare as easily as these little boys do. What is your name? If you tell me yours, I may tell you mine." Shaylar swallowed a breath she didn't seem to realize she had been holding this whole time.

"I'm Shaylar...it's a pleasure to meet you." For a moment, as Abbadon watched her face, she seemed surprised, before the smirk reappeared. "Wow, such manners, all the way out here in the wilds. You may call me Morrigan." Abbadon was suddenly grateful for all of the etiquette lessons they had been forced to sit through. At least something stuck with his sister. So he looked at the other men for a moment. Shaylar was the best bet at handling this, but Alistair seemed livid.

"I'd suggest giving back those documents you've stolen, they're Grey Warden property." She still didn't seem fazed despite the obvious threat in Alistair's tone.

"I will not, 'twas not I who took them in the first place. You can invoke a name that holds no meaning here, I am not threatened." Alistair was about to say something when Shaylar placed the back of her hand against his chest, trying to get him to relax as she looked at Morrigan.

"If you didn't take them, can I ask who did?"

"...'Twas my mother." Shaylar nodded, but the men still looked skeptical, save for Abbadon, though his expression was never very readable. "I can take you to her, if you so desire." Daveth swallowed a breath.

"She'll put us in a pot she will..." He murmured, to which Jory shrugged. "If it's warmer than this forest, it'd be a welcomed change." Shaylar however, nodded.

"Alright."

"Follow me then, if it so pleases you." She began to follow after the mysterious woman who called herself Morrigan, when she felt someone catch her wrist, turning to see Alistair had a hold of it.

"Are you sure about this?" She seemed to think about it for a moment before smiling at him slightly.

"Trust me."

"...Alright. But if I end up as a stew..."

"I'm sure you'll be delicious, now let's go."

* * *

It wasn't exactly what he had expected the home of a witch to look like. Well, maybe a little, maybe he was just being silly for buying so much into Daveth and Ser Jory's conversation as they followed the strange woman they had met in the woods. No, she had a name, her name was Morrigan, if he remembered it right. He walked along beside Shaylar, leaning down to whisper to her.

"Are you really sure this is a good idea?" He asked under his breath, to which she nodded, giving him a sly look.

"Abbadon, relax. You were never one to get into simple minded fairy tales. We've been walking for a while, if she was aiming to trap us she would have done it already, I'm sure." Abbadon looked away.

"I don't believe it...I just...she's still a stranger." She glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"Like we're best friends with Alistair, Ser Jory and Daveth yet, right?" It was true, any of the mentioned three could have turned and killed them at any moment, but it hadn't happened yet. But he felt they felt safer with them because they had been through so much together since yesterday involving the forest. He certainly wasn't watching his back all of last night either. If she was sure, for now he was going to put his trust in her. Right now, Shaylar was the only person he had who he could truly say he put a lot of trust into, despite her sometimes reckless choices.

"Mother, there you are. I've a few Grey Wardens, who-"

"I see them, girl." The harsh, raspy voice of an older woman cut in as they reached a cabin out in the middle of a marshy area. Daveth and Ser Jory shrunk back as her eyes fell upon them, but the other three remained standing straight, their posture showing no fear.

"So...you must be the Witch of the Wilds." Alistair concluded after a few moments of silence. She snorted, turning her back for a moments time, not that Morrigan's gaze still wasn't trained on them.

"Petty titles mean nothing these days, boy." She turned to look at Shaylar.

"Tell me, does your woman's mind allow you to see past these men's fears?" She blinked, trying to process what she was being asked.

"I'm...not sure what I should be believing, to be honest. But I'm choosing to believe you aren't going to hurt us, until I'm proven otherwise."

"A foolish statement that is much wiser than it implies, as I'm sure you understand." She paced for a few moments.

"And I suppose you're here for your treaties. I've kept them safe up until now, you may have them back." Alistair seemed confused.

"You...oh, you were protecting them?" It came out as a half statement, half question as the woman disappeared and reappeared with several documents, leaving them with Shaylar, who stared down at them dumbly for a moment.

"You have your treaties, you may now leave." Abbadon supposed she didn't have her pot ready to throw them all into, after all. She forced Morrigan to show them the way out, and they followed, though the men were still hesitant the whole way back.

"Here you are. I implore you to rethink visiting soon." Morrigan said without the slightest hint of emotion in her voice or on her face.

"Damn, and we were going to come spend the next holiday with you, too." Alistair mentioned, causing her to look at him.

"I do not want holiday visitors, I assure you. Least of all you."

* * *

"Duncan!" Shaylar called as they reentered camp. He seemed to have been waiting for them, as he looked quite tired. The walk back was long for them as well, and the sun had already been setting upon their return. Abbadon walked ahead of them, handing Duncan the blood he needed as well as the documents.

"Excellent work. I've had the mages prepare for the joining Ceremony already, we will need to induct you into the Grey Wardens as soon as possible. The battle...is going to be coming to us sooner than we expected." He explained, the hesitance in his voice causing Abbadon to clear his throat.

"Duncan, can you tell us what really happens now? When you become a Grey Warden?" He asked, seemingly thinking about this for a long while. Duncan looked from Abbadon, to Alistair, and Shaylar cleared her throat from beside Daveth.

"I'd...like to know too. We've done all this, and if it's too late to go back I also want to know." Duncan looked them all over before taking a breath.

"We Grey Wardens pay a great price to be what we are...and I'm afraid there is a possibility that some of you may not make it. There is great risk involved in the joining, as there is in being a Grey Warden itself." The initiates listened to him with clear shock, but Abbadon's look settled quickly.

"Then let's get it done with. We'll have to face whatever comes just as we've faced everything so far." He mentioned, causing his sister to look up at him.

"Abbadon..." Duncan looked them all over again, Daveth clearing his throat.

"Yeah, let's go."

"...Very well. Alistair, take them to the Old Temple." Alistair only looked hesitant for a moment before he nodded, ushering them to follow after him.

* * *

"The more I hear about this joining, the less I like it." Daveth mentioned as the four initiates waited with Alistair for Duncan to arrive. Ser Jory nodded as well. "They...didn't tell me about this when they recruited me. I have my wife and my child...I don't know if I can.." Shaylar cleared her throat, holding tightly to her brother's arm with one hand while the other cleared sandy bangs from her eyes.

"I feel like that's the reason they don't tell anyone." She started, and Abbadon quickly put in, seeing where she was going with this.

"If they told you, you could die during the Joining, would you have agreed to come with them?" He questioned, to which Daveth finally piped in.

"Look Ser Jory, either we die, or everyone loses their lives to the hoard of Darkspawn waiting to wipe us out. What would you do to protect that pretty wife of yours?" He asked as Ser Jory seemed to put some more thought into it.

"I'm just...not used to fighting something I can't engage with my Blade." Shaylar felt Abbadon pull her off to the side.

"I'm going to go before you. Whatever this is, I'm going to do it before you." He stated, causing her eyes to widen.

"A-Abbadon..." He paused to smile at her.

"I don't know if I'm going to live or die but...you...need to carry on either way." She couldn't believe he was doing this. He was thinking about leaving her alone? After everything they had gone through? They were alive together for a reason.

"And...what if I die?"

"Then we'll be together." Didn't he care that she would have to watch him die either way? She inhaled a shaky breath, but followed him back to the other initiates as Duncan finally arrived with the blood and a chalice on hand.

"Few words are spoken during this Ceremony, but be aware no matter what happens, you will be regarded as a hero." He spoke gravely, and it made Shaylar's stomach turn. "Alistair, please." Alistair hesitantly took the chalice from Duncan, lowering his head.

"Join us, brothers and sisters, Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant." Alistair's voice, despite the words he spoke, was something Shaylar felt comfort in. He had proven himself to be the good person he had seemed from the start within these past two days.

"And should you perish, know that your sacrifice shall not be forgotten, and one day we shall join you." Lifting his head, he handed the chalice back to Duncan, who looked to Daveth.

"Daveth, please step forward." From over the cup's rim, she could see the black blood, once jellied looked to be diluted with water of some sort. They had to drink it? She watched as Daveth took the cup and looked back for a moment, smiling at her specifically before he took a drink of the venomous, foul blood. He began coughing, sputtering, and staggered back as he began to feel the effects. Shaylar and Abbadon could hardly bare to watch as his physical limitations, mental limitations, were all put the limit all at once.

"I am sorry, Daveth." It wasn't long after this that Daveth fell, to which Shaylar felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Daveth!" Ser Jory swallowed hard.

"M-Maker..." He backed up as Duncan refilled the glass, this time with the blood they had collected for Ser Jory. Abbadon watched, having trouble doing so as Duncan advanced.

"Ser Jory..." He retreated, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"W-We weren't warned...this isn't fair, I...I have a wife..."

"There is no turning back..." Though the moment Jory pulled his sword, Abbadon could see Duncan was ready, pulling a Dagger of his own. He advanced on Jory quickly, and she watched the Dagger as it was driven harshly into his abdomen. Duncan held it there for a few moments.

"I am sorry." As he pulled it out, Ser Jory's lifeless body fell to the floor. Shaylar could barely usher a sound of shock.

"Abbadon." As Abbadon was called next, Shaylar refound her voice.

"W-Wait! Please." She could feel Alistair and Duncan both looking at her now, followed by her own brother.

"I want to do it together with him."

"Shaylar?..."

"If we die. I want to die together. If one of us is left alone...we won't have to see the other die." Duncan watched her, as if considering it. All the pain they had gone through at Castle Cousland, the scream of their mother that they had been forced to endure. And he then closed his eyes.

"Abbadon and Shaylar." Shaylar stepped up beside her brother, watching as he drank the blood first, and handed her the Chalice which she quickly drank from. The sting was strong in both of their throats, the fire of the poison burning throughout both their bodies. They both began to scream in agony as Alistair came to stand beside Duncan, who put his hand on his shoulder. He didn't know how to call this. They were still struggling against the taint itself.

They could hear the roar of a dragon. They could see flashes of its hideous face. It was enormous. Caught in a world of green poison, neither knew where to go. Darkspawn, Darkspawn everywhere, dead bodies, corpses of people, perhaps people they once knew. And then everything went black.

* * *

"It is done." Abbadon slowly opened his eyes to find that Alistair and Duncan were both looking down upon him, both approving yet somber all at once. But there was only one thing he could think about as he sat up.

"Shaylar?" He spotted her laying there, he upper half being supported by Alistairs knees. He shook himself off as he went to her, pulling her close to himself and wrapping her tightly in his arms. She was dead, she had to be dead. But a few strangled coughs proved otherwise as he pulled her back, watching her eyes slowly open.

"A-Abbadon?" The usually composed man felt his heart was in shambles. He could have lost her too.

"Shaylar!" He huddled her close to him again, and this time she could feel her wrap her arms around his back.

"Thank the Maker..." she murmured. They were both alive, alive and Grey Wardens. Just like they had promised their mother. Though Abbadon's eyes rested on the bodies of Daveth and Ser Jory.

"Are the two of you alright?" Duncan questioned.

"Better now that I know she's here." Abbadon mentioned, watching his sister's face as she was assisted into standing.

"I...only one of us died during my joining...but it was horrible." Shaylar glanced over at Daveth and Ser Jory, her eyes glazed over with grief.

"Did you have dreams?" Alistair asked, to which they both nodded.

"I felt like I would never wake..." Shaylar admitted as she put her head down. Duncan looked at them quietly.

"Take some time, when you're ready, meet me and Alistair just down those stairs. I'd like you to accompany us to a meeting with King Cailan." he explained before he and Alistair walked off. Abbadon watched them go, but turned upong hearing his sister shuffling around. She was at Ser Jory's side first, gently coaxing his eyelids shut over his shocked eyes. She seemed to be praying now, so he just continued to watch her. She finally stood up and walked over to Daveth's side, praying for him just as she had done for Ser Jory. Though this time, she leaned down and kissed Daveth on the cheek, before standing up, meeting her brother's puzzled expression, before giving him a somber one in return.

"He said that would help him to the Maker's side. I hope he finds it." was all she could say before she headed for the stairs.


	5. The Battle of Ostagar

**Author's Note:** I hope this chapter isn't too hard to follow, it jumps around a bit, but I hope anyone who's been sticking with reading this has enjoyed it so far as I've enjoyed writing it!

 **Chapter 4: The Battle of Ostagar, Separation!**

She simply stared ahead through the tower's window at the vastness that was Ostagar. The battle was tomorrow. How had it come this? Last week, she had simply been a Cousland. Well...not that it was so simple to be a Cousland, but thinking about it now? It was a lot less stress than being a Grey Warden. Couslands didn't have to worry about the Blight. They didn't have to worry about fighting saving Fereldan. Well..not in such a degree. Grey Wardens meant so much to Ferelden in the face of a possible blight, but she wondered to herself, why had they been forgotten again and again when their job was done? Leaving your old life behind to be a Warden couldn't be easy for anyone. It was only one of the ultimate sacrifices a person would make when choosing to be a Grey Warden, she had discovered later on. Her mind briefly wandered to Daveth and Ser Jory as the comb she held ran once again through the tresses of her thick hair.

But what bothered her more, was what had happened when she and Abbadon had finally come to the meeting that Duncan had asked them to attend. The brush came to a slow stop within her hair again as she continued to stare out into the near blackness that Ostagar was becoming as the sun dipped below the horizon. Of all places to house the Grey Wardens, were the only two towers left standing within Ostagar really the finest choice?

* * *

 _"I'm sorry my liege, you want us to what?" Shaylar questioned in a dumbfounded from beside her brother. Abbadon meanwhile, had been watching the man that stood just beside Cailan. Loghain, he had heard him called by name once or twice through the meeting. It was something about him that made Abbadon's hairs stand up on the back of his neck. Something about him that almost...alarmed him. But he didn't know what it was, and instead chose to ignore the feeling as he continued to listen to the conversation._

 _"I want you and Alistair to make your way up the tower of Ishal. There is the beacon. You will wait for the signal and send word to Loghain's men through the beacon to charge." Shaylar's gaze shifted to Alistair, who seemed at this point rather rigid, his jaw clenched as if he was fighting to stop himself from saying something he was sure he would regret. Her attention once again shifted to the king. Maybe she was a little more outspoken than Alistair at this point, to ask him any question at all, but he didn't seem to mind. He was still looking kindly at her. "Do you understand?"_

 _"I..." She looked from the king to Alistair, then to Abbadon. "I...do, my lord. But...Abbadon..." The look in Cailan's eyes shifted for a moment as if he was understanding exactly what it was she had been trying to say, ad for just a moment, as Abbadon set his gaze on him as well, he could have sworn that his eyes shifted to Alistair, gaining a forlorn quality before he turned his attention back on the newest wardens._

 _"I'm sorry, but we need him out on the battlefield. Dispensing anymore Wardens from the field would be...a grave mistake." Loghain cleared his throat._

 _"I feel, sire, that placing all of your trust in these...these Wardens to pull us through in the heat of battle is a grave mistake."_

 _"Wow, does your middle name happen to be subtlety?" Shaylar could barely help it as it slipped out, but a stern look from Duncan who stood at the other side of the table quieted her, her gaze cast to the ground within the next moments. Abbadon placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll serve you well and I am sure my sister will too, my king. Won't you, Shaylar?" Shaylar nodded, though the knot that formed in her stomach at the mention of them being apart in such away was one she knew wasn't going to vanish anytime soon._

 _"I trust in the two of you to get this job done, it's rather important." Cailan added, giving a pointed look to Loghain. Shaylar exchanged glances with Alistair, who had his lips pressed together. It didn't seem as if he was willing to talk, but they nodded._

 _"Your impudence is what will end us..." Abbadon heard Loghain mutter as he began to walk away. The meeting was finished and the king wished luck to the wardens before leaving Abbadon, Alistair, and Shaylar alone with Duncan._

 _"Duncan, you mean we aren't going to be in the battle at all?" Alistair finally ask, disbelief and hurt both evident in his voice. "Why won't he send Abbadon together with Shaylar-" He paused, turning to look at the two._

 _"Not that I wouldn't like to work with her but why would he send me and not her brother? I know that the king knows-" He paused again, almost hesitant, but Abbadon finished for him._

 _"What we've been through." Duncan continued looking at them with the same stern yet kindered look that he gave to most of the Wardens he was tasked to care for each day, those he had recruited._

 _"I understand, and I'm sorry. But Cailan is sending you with Shaylar because she's inexperienced. He thinks Abbadon's skill with a sword will carry him far on the field of battle." At the mention of sword skills, Shaylar bit her tongue, choosing instead to shrink back behind her brother and Alistair._

 _"I think I agree with Alistair..." She muttered challengingly. "Why do we have to be there holding a torch for Loghain's men? Why can't the army men do it? I think we should be on the battlefield with the rest of the Wardens." Though at Duncan's next words, she jumped, as it sounded almost like a clap of thunder._

 _"That is not your choice to make! He chose Alistair and Shaylar to do this, and it will be the two of you up there whether you approve of it or not." Alistair still didn't seem pleased._

 _"What so they need two Grey Wardens up in that tower holding up a torch just in case? Fine, but I'm just letting you know if the king ever asks me to don a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line Darkspawn or no." Shaylar blinked, looking up at him._

 _"I'd kind of would like to see that." He raised an eyebrow at her._

 _"For you, maybe...but it has to be a pretty dress."_

 _"I'll make sure to lend you mine." She countered, hearing a collective sigh from both Abbadon and Duncan. Though now Alistair, letting off his chest what he had to, looked a bit concerned._

 _"Duncan...Maker watch over you. You and Abbadon."_

 _"Maker watch over us all."_

* * *

She dropped the brush to the floor as she thought further about it. What if Abbadon died? What if she died out there? What if one of them was left alone? She heard the scuffling of boots, followed by the sound of someone picking up the brush and taking it to her hair, and as she looked up, she could see the friendly face of a ginger-haired woman, bright amber eyes shining.

"What's on your mind friend?" Yes, she had seen her earlier. Back at dinner with the rest of the Wardens. Someone...Gregor, if she remembered his name correctly, had mentioned that this woman and herself were at current two of the only female Wardens in Fereldan. What had he said her name was again? She couldn't remember...

"Glenda, if you were wondering." She said kindly. "Though most of this lot call me Glen. They said it helps me feel more like 'one of the guys'. Almost like they're afraid of me considering myself a girl. I think they're afraid of what it would do to their hormones if the pretty, frilly dresses came out, don't you think?" Despite the strange way she had come in, Shaylar found herself chuckling at what she was saying.

"I suppose so. Alistair did mention that there weren't a lot of women in the Grey Wardens." A smile played at the woman's lips, one which Shaylar caught in the mirror.

"Ahhh Alistair. He's been following after you like a puppy you know that? Then again, I suppose saving for the pissing wherever he feels needed, he pretty much is a puppy, isn't he?" She asked with another chuckle. Shaylar blinked.

"Oh no, that's nothing, Duncan asked him to help my brother and I get settled." She explained, to which Glenda shrugged.

"If you say so." She said cheerfully. "But my womanly senses don't lie, don't be fooled. I might fight like a Mabari but I have some feminine wiles left in me yet. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if he really was following you like a little puppy." Shaylar placed her hands in her lap.

"Why?"

"The boy was a templar in training from my understanding. I don't imagine that the Chantry often allowed him time to...be a boy. I'm a bit out of his age range and you're the first woman that's been close to him, spent this much time with him in camp. I wouldn't be surprised if he asked to bed you before this battle. You know, for luck." The blush was slightly evident when she realized she could no longer tune Glenda out.

"E-Excuse me?!" Even if, she noted during their travel into the wilds that someone like Alistair would be too shy to do that even if given the chance.

"I mean you can't lie, his body is _very_ nice, is it not?"

"C-Can we stop talking about this please?" She asked, burning a hole into her palms with how hard she was staring at them. Though she did remember his strong embrace that night, she shook it from her mind.

"Yes please, for my ears as well." The voice surprised them both as they turned to see Abbadon standing in the doorway. Glenda clicked her tongue.

"Ah, don't you know better than to disrupt girl time?" Glenda asked as she set the brush down. Abbadon shrugged.

"Oh were there girls in here? I didn't notice." Glenda cheerfully clapped him on the arm, mentioning that if he made another comment like that again she'd have his head before the Darkspawn had a chance before exiting, likely to go join the Wardens within the second tower, who were from Shaylar's understanding having a bit more to drink than one would expect from their supposed level of professionalism.

"Abbadon."

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared." She finally said after a few moments of silence with her brother, who was sitting on one of the beds. Abbadon still seemed as unruffled as ever, and for some reason...it really bothered her. The fact that he took all these events in such stride.

"We'll do what we have to, and hope it isn't the last time we'll see each other."He answered, looking away from her, favoring focusing on a bedpost. She didn't know how he managed not to shed tears, how he managed to sit there almost stoically unless it was required of him not too.

"You know, you make me really mad." She commented, catching her brothers attention. "Aren't you scared? So much has happened and suddenly we're being shoved right into the heat of battle? Aren't you at least the slightest bit scared, upset? Mad? You didn't even cry when we heard mother scream, you-" It was in the moment that Abbadon forcefully grabbed the collar of her armor, dragging her up slightly and forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Don't...ever bring that up like it meant nothing to me." He said harshly before dropping her back down.

"But you-"

"I promised not to shed a tear until after I had Rendon Howe's blood at the end of my blade. And I will not." She couldn't say anything as he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts. Abbadon had never been that quick to trigger, but she supposed she was giving him much less credit than he really deserved. And the knot in her stomach was only tying itself tighter, even later as sleep overtook her, finding herself drifting with the gentle breathing of the other Wardens within the barrack.

* * *

She could still feel the knot as she and Alistair stood at the ready the next night, on the bridge that would overlook the battle. She noticed the somber look in his eyes as he gazed at the massive army that was fitted in position below them. She couldn't find the rest of the Wardens on the field below, lost in a sea of bodies, and she wasn't sure how many were going to remain after this battle. And she hadn't seen Abbadon since the previous night. Not a word of luck or even farewell...he had just been gone. She swallowed hard enough for Alistair to hear, and she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be alright. Duncan knows what we've gotten into." She had to wonder if he really did as she watched the bodies below her fall into position. And then she heard it. The unorganized, unceremonious whispering. The whispers she could only guess were the Darkspawn. They were coming. Out of everything, it was the only thing she understood clearly as a fog filed out from the trees beyond the army.

* * *

He couldn't have faced her today. Saying goodbye, the possibility of not seeing his sister, the last person in his family he had left, had been too much for him. He felt that maybe he had reacted as he had the other night to some level, on purpose. He had been angry with her, but not enough that he would have avoided her the whole day before the battle. But he had not seen hide nor hair of her since then, and he decided that maybe it was better that way. Better that she had more of a chance of survival after being sent to the tower of Ishal, the one place that could offer a little more safety than the battle field. He had silently willed Alistair to take care of her. He hoped he would heed that silent promise, in the moments he saw him before the rest of the Wardens filed out.

He could hear the unorganized whispering. He could feel their presence as he too saw the fog roll out from beyond them. And in moments. There they were. A massive army in itself, a horde of Darkspawn were making their way towards them. It all seemed almost...organized. Were Darkspawn supposed to be organized? Didn't they scrounge around in mindless bliss while trying to find their Archdemon? Did they already have one? He didn't know, but as they continued to advance, from Genlocks to Ogres, he heard Cailan's powerful, commanding voice.

"Archers!" There were hundreds of arrows flying as he gave the command, giving the frontlines of the Darkspawn army little time to react as the arrows pierced their bodies, killing them instantly. But they were still advancing at an alarming pace.

"Hounds!" His heart nearly stopped. They had given the Kennel Master his sister's dog, Bryn. He was fighting too, and he could not forget that as he watched the Mabari Warhounds charge into battle, fearlessly under the Kennel Master's command. It had been so hard for Shaylar to get Bryn to understand that he needed to listen to someone else, but now he couldn't even spot the brown and black-colored Mabari among the other dogs that charged. He could only hope he wasn't at the end of a Darkspawn Sword.

"...For Ferelden!" He could only remember charging with the rest of the army. He could hardly remember which bodies fell at his feet, human or Darkspawn. All he was going to remember was the charge. Or so he thought as he impaled a Genlock with his sword, feeling the blood spatter against his face.

* * *

Shaylar and Alistair had begun making their way towards the tower as soon as they saw the army launch into action. She felt almost as if the bridge would go on forever. She could hear Alistair let out a cry of warning but before anything could happen to her after she felt the very structure of the bridge shake, she noticed that she felt no pain, despite being toppled to the ground, face to face with a dead soldier. She felt him looming over with her, looking up in time to see Alistair hopping up, helping her up as well. But when she watched his back retreat further across the bridge, she noticed the armor on his shoulder was burned. She followed, and soon they were met by two Circle Mages.

"The Tower of Ishal! It's been taken!" One of them cried out. Alistair's face contorted into a look of confusion.

"Taken, Taken how man?" He demanded. Shaylar had never seen him with such a serious expression.

"The Darkspawn...M-Most of our men are dead."

"What are your names?" Shaylar asked, the mages exchanging glances.

"Y-Yalen and Rolof."

"Come with us. We need you."

* * *

Glenda had been her name. He had watched the Warden take a sword to the chest, and she lay lifeless yards from him as he fought off another Hurlock. It was Darkspawn after Darkspawn. And he was swinging his sword mechanically on the burning battlefield, almost as if it had acquired its own taste for the blood of the Darkspawn. It wanted this. He didn't, but he had no choice. There was no simple running away from this battle. He was no longer sparring back at Cousland Castle with Fergus, and it was all too real.

He found himself back to back with Duncan more than once, but these were only brief passing moments. Duncan had been good to them, and he gave him almost a fatherly feel. But on this battle field, here and now, they both shared the real possibility of dying. And he only wished that among all the noises within his head, that the voices of his family would have been one of them. At least one.

* * *

"Where did all these Darkspawn come from? they weren't supposed to _be_ here!" Alistair insisted as they reached the higher floors of the tower. There was dried blood caked in her hair as Shaylar flipped it off to the side, nodding at Rolof and Yalen who were following just behind them.

"Well maybe you should tell them that I'm sure it was all just one big misunderstanding." She spoke calmly, to which Alistair rolled his eyes.

"You're right it must be, I'm sure we'll all laugh about this later."

"Surely." Yalen tapped Alistair's shoulder, and the Warden looked back. "What?"

"T-There." Yalen pointed at the small mass of Darkspawn gathered in the room, and he breathed.

"Fabulous..." Shaylar seemed intent on staring at something before she placed a hand on his arm.

"Cover me." He didn't quite understand why, but he followed suit as she ran ahead. It was only then that he seemed to register the live Mabari hounds that rested in the caged, snarling and snapping. She slid to the trigger, pulling it and forcing the cage doors open. The Mabari, three strong hounds, leapt from their caged all at once, honed in on the Darkspawn that had killed the remaining Mabari.

Shaylar slid to the other side of the room, training her bow on a Genlock that was headed for Rolof, letting the arrow fly and striking it in the head. Alistair and Yalen took care of the other side of the room, all four panting as they lowered their Weapons.

"Maker I can't take much more of this.." Alistair murmured as they pushed forwards.

* * *

He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep fighting for. The beacon was nowhere near lit, but his morale was starting to wane. They needed help, and they needed it soon. He saw some sort of signal being given moments before, but the beacon still wasn't lit. Had Alistair and Shaylar failed? From what he understood the tower was supposed to be secure. So what had happened? He shuddered at the thought as he drove his sword through the chest of another Darkspawn. He had to close his mouth whenever the blood spattered, a habit even though Duncan said since he was already infected by the taint, by this point it wouldn't do him much harm if he decided he wanted to drink the blood like wine. Not that he would.

He slammed his sword into another Hurlock. Is this what his father had experienced during the war he had been caught up in? Or was this much worse? He really couldn't tell. But he was becoming tired, worn out from the battle. If help didn't come soon, he was almost sure that he would die. He just hoped his sister hadn't already suffered the same fate.

* * *

"O-Ogre!" Rolof's voice had rung clear throughout the room as they reached the top of the tower. It was huge, looming, its teeth dripping blood. Human blood. Shaylar fought hard against her flight instinct, especially when Alistair charged it. She pulled her bow quickly, letting arrows fly, aimed towards all the weak points she felt the ogre might have. Her sword still rested at her hip, and she finally drew it as she realized that with Yalen and Rolof casting spells from afar, Alistair was at a disadvantage. Without thinking hard about it, she drove her sword deeply into its shoulder.

It roared and caught her in an enormous hand. It could easily have crushed her ribs, had Alistair not impaled its hand. She grabbed for the hilt of her sword, still driven into the beasts shoulder, and drove it in deeper, distracting it as Alistair drove his own sword into its chest cavity. Combined with the spells of the mages, it was too much, and the beast fell.

"Over there, the Beacon Shaylar." Shaylar nodded and directed Rolof to cast a spell, which lit the beacon, that would send a clear message to Loghain's men.

"I hope we aren't too late..." Shaylar murmured to Alistair as he looked down at her. He himself wasn't sure what to say, because he didn't know. He prayed that they weren't. That Loghain's men could still save the men out on the field of battle. He didn't answer, instead embracing her, for his comfort as much as her own. Abbadon, Duncan...everyone. They had to be alright. Losing wasn't an option.

* * *

Abbadon watched the Beacon burn brightly. He waited for Loghain's men to come. Duncan and Cailan, the rest of the army, the sign was finally there! But...nothing had changed. There were no men marching in, fresh and ready for battle. It was still them, their numbers dwindling fast. If this carried on, there would be no one left. But no one came. Abbadon feared only the worst, taking sharp breaths as he charged another Genlock.

But what happened next would be something burned into his mind for the rest of his life. King Cailan had been picked up by the only Ogre within his line of vision. It roared menacingly as the King of Ferelden writhed in its grip. He wanted desperately to stab it, get it to let go, but he was being blocked. He heard the distinct sound of breaking bones as Cailan's blood littered his own body, the Ogre tossing him aside soon after. The king was dead. They were done for.

It was then he spotted Duncan, charging. He wanted to call out to him but he couldn't find his voice. Couldn't find a word that would come out as Duncan leapt onto the Ogre, clawing it again and again with his Daggers trained on the area of its chest. And with one last roar, it fell. He could hardly watch anymore as Duncan crawled to Cailan's body, as if defending it from a fresh wave of soldiers.

And then suddenly, his feet were carrying him, but not to Duncan, away from him. Away from the field of battle as he attempted to hack down whatever was in his way. But he was stopped when he felt a sharp pain to his abdomen, looking down only to find a dagger impaled into the cavity. He took in a sharp breath and fell, barely conscious.

He could feel a gust of wind followed by someone picking up his body. The person smelled of a marsh, and their hands were very subtle, he could barely feel their touch. And then there was no touch at all. Just fur under his bare arms. He had lost his gauntlets. But he couldn't find the will to stay awake any more, and finally let the darkness take over.

* * *

She prayed that Loghain's men had saved their own. She knew praying at a time like this was silly, but as the four of them waited, she looked to Alistair.

"We have to go." He nodded slowly.

"I know. I don't feel right being here and not out there with Duncan." But as they turned to leave they were stopped as the door slammed open, revealing more darkspawn as they swarmed the room. Arrows came flying. Rolof and Yalen were pierced and swarmed by Darkspawn immediately, and she watched in agony as Alistair received an arrow to his chest.

"Alista-ah..." She couldn't finish calling his name as she felt something pierce her all too close to her heart, and she fell.

As she passed out, she swore that she heard the crow of a bird.


	6. The Lone Wardens

**Chapter 5: The Lone Wardens**

* * *

 _"Oh Abbadon, you look so handsome! You and Fergus are going to knock those noble ladies dead!"_ his mother's voice rang clearly in his mind. He was looking for the strength to open his eyes. He was looking for a reason too. But his abdomen was still in pain. He felt as if opening his eyes would be even more of a pain. Shaylar...the last thing on his mind had been Shaylar. But he felt like she wouldn't be there if he opened his eyes.

"He seems to be struggling..." A voice unfamiliar to him commented as he struggled to will his eyes to open. It was like a bad dream. But now he truly couldn't wake up. He thrashed only slightly, as he felt a wet rag being pressed to his head, a protest to foreign feeling on his body, which was burning up. No, in truth he really didn't want to wake up. If she was gone there was no reason for him to open his eyes anymore.

 _"And what if I die?"_

 _"Then we'll be together."_ It was that very promise he had made before their joining that rang through his head. If she didn't live, he wouldn't either. Though the hands that tended to his wounds were kind, welcoming. He could hardly remember what had happened before. He remembered the searing battlefield, the falling bodies...Duncan. Duncan and the King were dead. But he wasn't somehow. He couldn't seem to recall how, and to make things worse, he had no idea where he was. But his mind registered the second voice that returned a statement to the one before.

"We must make sure the lord is alright. He is a Cousland, after all. One of the last, I fear." He couldn't mistake the voice. But if he was dead, then maybe he had to be dead, as well. It was the only explanation he could accept. It wasn't like he had much reason to live anymore, aside from revenge on Howe. But without his sister at his side, it would be a bitter victory, even so.

* * *

 _She could feel warm hands traveling gently through her hair. She was in someone's lap. But the lap of whom she didn't know. But it felt all too familiar. She struggled for a bit but finally opened her eyes. And when she did, she found blue eyes that mirrored her own, the kind face she had been missing since the fall of Castle Cousland._

 _"Father!" She exclaimed, finally catching her breath. Bryce Cousland smiled at his daughter, sitting back so she herself could get up. "But father you're-am_ _ **I**_ _dead?" she asked curiously, tilting her head as she tried to pinch herself. Though she found that she couldn't, and Bryce laughed heartily._

 _"No, my dear pup, you aren't dead, but you certainly came close." He said, a bit of worry etched into his tone. If there was one thing she had always admired about her father, it was his ability to stay calm, no matter what the case was. Even in those final moments, he had been as calm as he possibly could be. But to look into his blue eyes again is something she never thought she would have the chance to do again._

 _"Then...why am I here...am I dreaming again?" His smile never left as he pulled her in for a tight hug._

 _"Perhaps. But I'm merely here to remind you that you still have so much to do, pup. You shall join us in time, but you've got a greater destiny."_

 _"I beg to differ father, I nearly died at Ostagar! In fact...I'm not all that sure that you're really telling me the always tried your hardest not to scare me too much..." Bryce shook his head, smoothing her hair from her face._

 _"You need to wake up, and face your destiny no matter what. Don't fear what is to come pup. Embrace it. A Cousland.."_

 _"...Always performs their duty first." She finished, to which she had him beaming before he kissed her on the forehead._

 _"That's my girl."_

* * *

Shaylar could hear the shuffling of books on a shelf as she opened her eyes slowly, groaning slightly as she sat up, feeling a plush mattress underneath her hands as she used them to steady herself. When her vision focused, her blue eyes met that of a bright amber, almost yellow. Her lips formed a soft smirk as she looked back at her.

"Ah, and so she opens her eyes, does she?" She asked. Shaylar held her head for a minute, trying to think, find out where she was.

"Y-You're Morrigan...right?" She asked, bewildered.

"Tis' correct." She answered, turning her full attention to the other woman now. She didn't seem bothered by the Warden's current condition. Then again...she remembered Morrigan seeming to not give a damn about much the first time she had met her.

"Where am I?"

"My mother's cabin, in the wilds. You have been out for three days now. Your injuries were very grave, but mother's magic worked some wonders on you, how fortunate, yes?" She asked as she walked slowly to the other side of the room.

"I...three days? What happened?" She asked slowly, still trying to process how she had even gotten to the woman's cottage in the first place. Morrigan watched her struggle with her memories, and sighed.

"I'm afraid that the man you were waiting for quit the field, so to speak." She said, trying to help the Grey Warden's memory along.

"...Man...Loghain?" she questioned.

"Whatever you choose to call him. Everyone at Ostagar perished you...would not want to see the state of the fields, would you?" Shaylar winced, her head pounding, but partially because of her words.

"N-No..." to which Morrigan shrugged.

"Suit yourself. You may only be processing, but your friend doesn't seem to be taking it quite as well." She looked up at her, to which Morrigan clarified.

"The imbecile you brought with you to the wilds the last time. I believe he's been agonizing over the deaths of the other Wardens." She explained. Alistair was alive?

"But my brother?" Morrigan's eyes flashed for a moment, but with what Shaylar couldn't really tell.

"I have no idea where your sibling may be. Mother insisted on saving you from the tower. Transformed into a large bird and plucked the two of you from the top, one in each talon. If you don't believe me you can ask her yourself. She does wish to speak to you now that you've awoken." She mentioned, not taking notice of the pure pain in the Warden's eyes. Was Abbadon dead? She felt really numb, and it was more or less difficult to stand when she finally got to her feet. Morrigain handed her a simple dress, explaining her armor had been to damaged to be placed back on. She'd have to find new armor elsewhere. She did feel that wearing these light clothes would be better for her anyway, due to the pain in her chest. Without much more conversation, Morrigan opened the door for her, allowing her to step out into the front area of the cottage.

* * *

She spotted the woman and Alistair as soon as she was out the door, though she tried to prevent herself from stumbling. Morrigan's mother noticed her upon the slight stumble and a small noise bubbled in her throat.

"There, your fellow Grey Warden." When Alistair turned around, the look her gave her was not one she would have ever expected from him, not before all of this. He looked scared, lost. Like...a child who had just lost their mother. Like she had the morning after the attack on her castle. They stood in silence for a moment, just staring at each other before he approached her.

"Y-You...I thought you were dead for sure...but here you are...alive." He sounded like he was in total disbelief as he reached her, reaching out to brush some stray strands of hair from her face. He seemed to think he was dreaming.

"Duncan and the others...they..." She nodded quietly, moving to embrace him as carefully as possible. She knew she wasn't the only one who probably lost someone on that night. And Duncan...Duncan was someone she owed her life to, even if she wasn't sure how much it was worth anymore.

"Shh...I know." She mumbled softly, linking her hands just behind his back. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so strongly about comforting him. She had a lot of things she wanted to let out herself. Her brother was likely dead. But she couldn't find the energy to cry. She had been crying a lot lately, and it was becoming too often of an occurrence. Right now, she couldn't feel much of anything. She held tighter to Alistair however as she felt his breath hitch a few times, his face buried in her shoulder. Maybe now she understood. This Warden was all she had left now. Duncan had told her that when you became a Warden, you had to count other Wardens as your family. Alistair was her family. And now they were alone in the world.

"Alistair..." She murmured as he pulled away. "We...need to decide what to do now." She said as calmly as possible. He averted his gaze from her.

"What is there to do now? If it weren't for Morrigan's mother we wouldn't even be here." He tried to remind her, to which she nodded.

"Do not speak of me as if I am not here, boy." the old woman interjected. Shaylar turned to meet her stern expression, and bowed slightly.

"Thank you for saving us..." She was searching for a name, to which the old woman snorted.

"Names are but a pretty thing. Though if you must have one, you may call me Flemeth." She said, before looking back and forth between them.

"Your army has been defeated. But a blight is still upon us, you understand. Are you going to stop it? Or has being a Grey Warden changed from what I remember it being in Blights past?" She asked, to which Shaylar found herself interjecting.

"Of course!" She exclaimed, though Alistair didn't seem as confident.

"By ourselves?"

"We'll find a way. Duncan believed with all his heart that a blight was upon us. If that's true Alistair then we have to find a way to defeat it. We're Grey Wardens, isn't that what we stand for?" Flemeth cleared her throat as Alistair fell into deep thought.

"And you don't need to be alone. What of your precious treaties." Alistair seemed to perk up, even if momentarily.

"The treaties! Elves, Dwarves and Mages, they're all obligated to help us in a blight!"

"Well now, this sounds like an army to me, does it not?" Shaylar gave Alistair the best assuring smile she could manage.

"Then it's our job to get them to honor those treaties, and build up an army, to make up for the one we lost." She said, to which he nodded.

"You'll be leaving soon then." It was more of a statement from Flemeth than a question, but Shaylar answered all the same.

"Of course. If we head north, we should be able to reach Lothering. We can figure out what to do from there." She was about to move to prepare herself to leave when Flemeth stopped her.

"If you would, wait until Morrigan finishes her stew before you leave." The curious request would only make Shaylar nod slightly. It wouldn't be for a while, according to Morrigan's call from inside of the cabin.

* * *

So she sought out Alistair, who had gone to sit on the bank of the water.

"Alistair...do you want to talk about Duncan?" She asked, looking at him with sincere curiosity. Alistair sighed, keeping his gaze on the water.

"It's alright, you don't need to worry about that. You didn't know Duncan that well anyway..." He answered, to which she frowned.

"Duncan saved my life. Duncan meant something to me too, Alistair. As did..."

"...Abbadon." He finished, a frown etched into his features. "I'm so sorry, here I am moaning and groaning about Duncan, when you-" He couldn't finish, pausing after taking a note of the look in her eyes. The pain was searing, and it only amplified his.

"I want too, but I can't cry anymore...is that bad, Alistair? I need to, but I can't. Tears aren't coming to me I..." She felt like she had been wrapped up in his arms a lot lately, but she didn't protest when he did it again. Right now, they needed to lean on each other.

"No, it's not. You've been through a lot." They remained silent for a while when he spoke up again.

"One day I want to return to Highever...Duncan said it was where he was from. I want to pay...some sort of homage."

"I...I'll go with you, if you'd allow it. My family, brother, they were all from Highever too, so..." He gave her a pained smile.

"Sure. I'd like that. They'd like that." She nodded quietly, leaning back a bit as she simply took time to think about things. She wondered why Flemeth had asked them to wait. Maybe their wounds hadn't healed fully. And truth be told, she wouldn't be surprised. They still hurt, or at least hers did. Alistair seemed to be watching her.

"You don't feel sick do you?" He asked with a certain degree of concern. She shook her head.

"No, I'm alright." She mentioned, though she did find her way back to her feet. She didn't want Alistair worrying so much. After all, they were both fragile right now, she thought. Both possibly...afraid of losing the other now that they were alone. But she was starting to learn that it was just the sort of person that he was.

* * *

"Mother, the stew is bubbling." Morrigan commented as she walked from the cottage. Shaylar watched the apostate as she moved over to her mother. "The Wardens won't be staying for dinner, I don't suppose? Such a shame." She commented as she looked them over. Both seemed ready to go, but the only reason that thye had stayed was because Flemeth asked it of them.

"Trust me, as much as we love your company, we would have left earlier if we could." Alistair mentioned as he adjusted his pack. Flemeth cut in before Shaylar could say anything.

"I'm glad you feel that way, because the girl will be going with you." There was a collective silence for a moment as the other three took a while to absorb what Flemeth was saying.

"What?!" the cry came in unison, and Morrigan looked caught between annoyance and confusion as she looked at her mother.

"Mother, what is the meaning of this?"

"I believe you will be of great help to these Wardens in the coming months. On top of that, you did say you wished to venture further than the wilds, yes?"

"Yes, but not this way! I cannot travel with them, it simply cannot be done."

"Why not? I think it's a good idea." Shaylar's voice cut into the back and forth of mother and daughter, and Alistair cleared his throat.

"A word, Shaylar." He pulled her off to the side, keeping his tone at a higher whisper.

"We can't take her with us."

"Why? We need all the help we can get." Alistair seemed to have a bad taste in his mouth.

"She isn't exactly Miss Personality, now is she?"

"But she's a mage, right? Mages are supposed to help us."

"She's an apostate!"

"Okay...so she's an illegal mage, but she's a mage."

"You're not even listening to me are you?"

"Not really no."

"You're starting to sound like everyone back at the chantry." She remembered he mentioned being a templar in training before being recruited by Duncan for the Grey Wardens, so she could imagine why having an apostate with them might put him on edge. But they needed help, and they couldn't exactly refuse Flemeth's help.

"We owe it to Flemeth, and this is her wish."

"We-Oh fine. But when we've both been turned into frogs don't come crying to me." She gently patted his shoulder.

"I'm not even sure frogs have tear ducts but I'll be sure to remember that." She responded as they headed back to Flemeth and Morrigan as they seemed to finish their own argument. Alistair still looked cross, but Shaylar nodded at Morrigan. "Coming?" Morrigan let out a sigh.

"I suppose...tis' not like I have a choice. However, you do. I can guide you to Lothering, quiet as a marsh mouse if that's what you desire." Shaylar's lips drew into a thin line.

"You needn't do that Morrigan. You're part of our little...party now, you don't need to keep to yourself." She commented, warranting a shrug from Morrigan.

"Oh is that what we are now?..." Alistair muttered under his breath to which Shaylar responded by pushing him along, bidding farewell to Flemeth. It would be a fairly long road to Lothering. A day and a half if they were to be so lucky.


	7. The Road to Lothering

**Chapter 6: The Road to Lothering**

* * *

"Ser Gilmore, I still can't believe you're actually here. How did you make it from Highever to Lothering?" Abbadon questioned as they looked up at the night sky. It was a rather clear night, and he had felt strong enough today to find his way out of bed. Upon opening his eyes, it had turned out that he in fact wasn't hallucinating. It had indeed been the voice of one of their most trusted knights, Ser Gilmore from Highever he had heard within the first few days of his arrival. It was hard to believe aside from himself and his sister that anyone at all had survived the attack, let along gotten so far. But in fact, here he had been.

"It was a long trip, my lord. I can tell you I was...quite surprised when you were brought into Lothering. Those that found you said that you had been dropped from the back of a bear. We still think they seem a little...crazy, but with all the strange things going on lately I haven't been so quick to rule it out." He mentioned. Abbadon nodded slightly. It had been a woman named Andrea that had tasked herself in nursing him back to health. And once Ser Gilmore had found out it was Abbadon, some refugees claiming that they had seen him at Ostagar days before as they traveled through the wilds, he helped Andrea in any way he could.

"...I see. They didn't let you go, did they?" He asked, a somber tint to his usually unchanged voice. Ser Gilmore looked down at his hands, wringing them out.

"No...my lord. When they tied my bonds one night...Howe's men had done it too loosely. I was able to free myself. Howe had sent a lot of his men back to Denerim so it wasn't hard to flee the castle that night...I ran and I didn't look back. The castle was in shambles my lord...I just couldn't." Abbadon nodded in understanding. Of course he understood. Who would want to stay after Howe decimated their castle. Of course, he noticed Ser Gilmore looked rather...uncomfortable, so he decided to change the subject.

"Well...things aren't how they used to be so, Ser Gilmore, if you would, I'd like you to simply call me Abbadon." Ser Gilmore looked surprised.

"I-"

"It's alright. Times have changed, and we'll need to start working together, if that's okay with you." Ser Gilmore seemed to mull this over, before nodding.

"Alright, but if that is how you want it, I ask that you simply call me Roland." Abbadon nodded in response. He had, before they had grown up, been quite used to calling Ser Gilmore by his given first name, Roland. He remembered that Shaylar used to call him Rory, but those times were long gone now. He had always thought it a silly name, anyway.

"Abbadon." It still sounded like he was testing something that was strange on his tongue.

"Yes?"

"What of your sister?" Abbadon froze upon the question, his muscles tensing before relaxing after a few moments. He kept his gaze trained ahead of him.

"She was in the battle too, but we were split up. She was supposed to go to the tower of Ishal and I...I saw the beacon, Roland. It was lit. She and her companion did it but...Loghain's men never came. They never came to help us." His gaze seemed glazed over, and Roland frowned.

"That...isn't how Loghain told the story. He said that the Grey Wardens killed the King, that they betrayed him on the battlefield. That isn't true, is it?..." Roland seemed disappointed, and with good reason. The Grey Wardens had been what he idolized since he was little. But he never had a chance to become one.

"I...do have something to mention. Shaylar and I were made Grey Wardens only a few days before the battle and...I can tell you it's not true. " Roland looked like he was absorbing a lot of the information that Abbadon was giving him. "He was killed by an Ogre." He explained. But why would Loghain lie like that? Why would he not send his men in to help?

"I...now that I've been told you and your sister were...are Grey Wardens, I have no doubt now that it's a lie." Roland answered finally. "But, if she isn't here now, that means that she..." He didn't want to finish his sentence, but Abbadon did it for him, as if he had just swallowed some bad ale.

"She's probably dead." Roland could sense the pain in the statement, and could do nothing but place a half-comforting hand to Abbadon's shoulder.

* * *

"And I'm telling you that Lothering is this way!" She listened to Alistair insist, pointing to the spot on the map they carried. She leaned on her palms, simply staring into the fire. They had walked a long way from Flemeth's cottage out in the wilds, but it had simply gotten too dark to carry on ahead. Alistair was sure they were going the wrong way, sure that they'd end up halfway to Redcliffe by tomorrow, rather than Lothering. Morrigan seemed to disagree.

"And I am telling you that we'll be going the right way if we continue on this path. However, should you choose to go your way, it may be better..." Alistair was about to answer when she finished. "...when your fellow Warden and I continue on the correct path without you."

"You...Shaylar, which way do you think we should be going?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Alistair, Morrigan knows her way around here better than we do. Just go where she tells us to go." She answered, though it was clear to both within the arguing party that she wasn't really one-hundred percent with them. Though Morrigan seemed to take the answer.

"Very well. Now enough of this. I am retiring." Morrigan said, brushing past Alistair, her purpose clearly on her pride. Shaylar continued poking the fire with a stick that looked like it was about to crisp off on the very tip. She was trying her best to remain together, but it was becoming harder and harder, especially because of Alistair. Aside from the occasional quarrel with Morrigan, he had been fairly quiet since they had left, choosing to walk behind herself and Morrigan yet insist that he was simply taking up the rear of the party in case they were attacked. But that was the same thing that worried her. If he was focused, how was he supposed to protect himself from attack, let alone them?

"Shaylar." Alistair's voice brought her out of an almost trance like state, and she realized he was offering her a bowl of whatever Morrigan had made. It was something similar to what she had made her mother before they left. They did owe a lot to Flemeth. They wouldn't really have proper supplies without her. Shaylar only had to make sure that she was careful, because she still hadn't replaced her overly-damaged armor. The only thing Flemeth had been able to save was her Cousland guard shield.

"N-No thanks Alistair. I'm not really..." She paused when she caught the look in his eyes. He seemed concerned. But she averted her gaze moments later, and she soon felt his weight on the log she was sitting on, right beside her.

"You have to. It'll be good for you, you haven't in a few days." She continued to look at the stew, but she couldn't will herself to take it from him.

"I just...it's too much." She couldn't find a hunger, despite the fact that he was right, that she hadn't eaten in days.

"Then I'll help." She watched as he took a spoonful, and then offered the bowl to her. Reluctantly, she followed suit, taking a spoon of it for herself. Originally, she was a little concerned about what a stew from the swamp princess might consist of, but it was actually warm, and the flavors helped it down her system easily. Though when she swallowed she gave it back to Alistair.

"It's not bad...though it took a while before I'd actually eat it."

"Why?"

"You never know. She could have poisoned it." He scoffed as she took another bite and shifted it back to him. Shaylar smiled slightly, shaking her head.

"I don't think she would. Morrigan is a little strange, but she doesn't seem downright evil. You were out for...two days? I was out for three. If she and Flemeth had wanted something with us they would have done it by now." Her tone was hushed since she didn't want Morrigan to overhear, even though since she was all the way across camp anyway, she doubted that she would. She took another bite of the soup when he passed the bowl, not even realizing how much it was truly satisfying her stomach.

"I suppose." Alistair said, not taking the bowl in a silent insistence that she take the last bit left within it. She finished the last of it and sighed.

"Back at the castle, Nan would always make all our meals." She explained, remembering the woman fondly. "There was nothing that Abbadon and my other brother, Fergus, wouldn't eat when Nan made it. She was a little...upsetting at times, but she was such a dear woman, all the same." She explained, her attention turning to the flickering fire. She leaned back a bit, closing her eyes as if reveling in the memory of Nan's antics, and Bryn's as well. Though she slowly opened her eyes after a moment.

"I...never did find Bryn, did I? That hound was always good for everything...he..." She covered her eyes, trying to prevent her grief from rising, though she could feel Alistair's hand at her back.

"Maybe we should get some sleep. There's still a while to go until we reach Lothering." He suggested, standing and offering her a hand once he had helped her calm down. Taking it, she decided that was probably best anyway.

* * *

"She's over here Roland." The refugees, Abbadon had observed since he had gotten out of bed, were up quite early every morning, and he realized the job of assisting them as Roland had taken up was a lot harder than he first thought. There were so many women, children, especially the children that he had to keep track of. In fact, he had only just located one of the frightened young girls that had taken to running when a loud storm had passed through the area that morning. Roland finally joined him, coaxing the young girl from her hiding place behind one of the merchant carts.

"You're rather good at this Abbadon, how to you find them so quickly?" Roland asked as he lifted the young girl into his arms. Abbadon shrugged as he placed the lid back on the barrel.

"There aren't many wooden barrels that tremble like that." He answered simply as he secured the lid before stepping away.

"I-I'm scared Ser Knight!" The little girl squeaked, burying her face against Roland's shoulder. Abbadon smiled slightly at her.

"And why is that?"

"It was loud this morning! It had to be Darkspawn!" Abbadon paused a moment. It was such a thing that little kids shouldn't have had to fear. But they were all too real and her fears were actually rather justifiable. After calming himself, he cleared his throat.

"Don't worry, if any of them come to the village, Roland and I will protect you." She looked up, and he could easily spot the fear in her eyes.

"W-Would you?" Abbadon nodded.

"So you have nothing to fear. Roland will take you back to your mother, she's been very worried about you." He mentioned, nodding to Roland as he moved to take her back to her barely-functioning mother. He didn't know how much longer he could keep lying to these children. Nothing was alright. If the Darkspawn decided to come here, there would be nothing anyone could do, and in his current state, least of all him. He let out a breath he hadn't realized that he was holding. In fact, he was still trying to figure out how he had gotten to Lothering himself. That night, everything had been so clear to him as far as what he smelled, and what he felt. But he doubted that some random bear would take him out of the heat of battle and then somehow, all the way to Lothering. But he didn't really have any explanation for the event himself. That was probably what was bothering him so much.

"Abbadon," He heard Andrea call. "I could use your help if you could spare a moment." He sighed. There wasn't any saying no to Andrea as far as he was concerned. She very well saved his life, so how was he supposed to reject helping her?

"Coming." He called before heading over to where she was stead with a couple of others, seemingly trying to figure something out.

* * *

She had a dream that night. Good or bad, she couldn't recall. But as Shaylar found herself trailing Alistair alongside Morrigan, she couldn't really find the will to think of if she had. She wasn't sure what exactly all this death and destruction over the past week was doing to her. But it wasn't something that she liked. Morrigan was watching her, something she hadn't noticed until Morrigan cleared her throat.

"Are one of you planning on rejoining me anytime soon, Shaylar? Or are you planning on blocking out your surroundings for the rest of all time?" She asked simply, now focused on the path ahead of them. She looked at Morrigan with a puzzled expression she didn't realize she was wearing.

"Huh?"

"Neither of you have spoken since we left camp. I thought at least the imbecile would have been talking my ear off. Yet here you both are, still sulking." Shaylar sighed softly.

"Nothing that has happened is exactly easy to get over in a few days, Morrigan." She answered, her tone more than a bit dry as she spoke to the young apostate.

"No but you have larger things to focus on, do you not?" She didn't want to admit that Morrigan was probably right, but she was. If they weren't in top form, they wouldn't even make it beyond Lothering. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Morrigan again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"T'would seem that I don't have a choice." She answered bluntly, causing the Cousland to grunt softly.

"Have you lived in the wilds your whole life?" She asked. If she and Morrigan were going to be traveling together in such close quarters, than she would have liked to learn more about her.

"Are all humans simply this curious?" She asked, seeming a little annoyed.

"What's wrong with a little curiosity?"

"I have some cats to whom you may have asked the same question." Shaylar rolled her eyes, but just as it seemed that Morrigan wasn't going to tell her anything, she spoke.

"T'was the only home I've ever known, yes. Flemeth didn't really allow me to go much farther than the border, most of the time if that." Shaylar looked up in sudden interest. Morrigan didn't seem like the type that wanted to sit still for long, and she remembered Flemeth saying that she had wanted to see what lay beyond the wilds.

"So..how do you know your way around so well?"

"I've not been a child my entire life. As I grew older, Flemeth eventually allowed me to go a bit farther and soon enough, I took my own initiative." Shaylar raised an eyebrow.

"So you snuck out?"

"Is that what you call it?"

"When you leave your home without permission of your parents, yes, that is what we call it." She had done it often enough, of course not expecting Morrigan to counter a question with a question.

"Tell me...have you ever done such a thing?"

"What?..."

"Sneaking out, as you call it. I would have just called it leaving."

"I mean...yeah, but it wasn't really sneaking out, when I did it I never left the castle, but I would go out past my curfew to hang out with one of my best friends. He was one of the squires of our castle who eventually became a full-fledged knight." Morrigan looked disinterested, but remained quiet so she could continue.

"Though we got into a lot of trouble together, he and I got grounded simultaneously more times than I can possibly count." Morrigan looked thoughtful for only a moment.

"You sound as if you were enthralled with this squire." Shaylar bit her lip. She had never really thought about it before. Ser Gilmore, to her had always been there. She could remember his presence from the moment that he was brought to the castle as a young boy.

"I don't know if I ever felt that way about him. Maybe...but it's all so foggy." In the light of recent events, that was. She readjusted her pack, as Morrigan seemed at least semi-satisfied with her answer.

* * *

"Stupid dog, settle down!" The group slowed to a stop when they heard voiced below them. The path they were on ledged a lower area, where Shaylar could see the smoke rising from a fire, and she could hear the whinny of horses down there as well.

"I told you we shouldn't have picked up some random Mabari! Nothing but trouble if you ain't their master!"

"We'll be its masters!" The other insisted as the snarling grew louder. Shaylar, at hearing something about a Mabari, edged closer to the edge, and she could see it was a bandit camp, though that was not what caught her attention. What did, was the large Mabari that they were trying to contain. He was spattered with blood, but she could see the black and brown coat under all of it. On impulse, and much to the dismay of Morrigan and Alistair, she called out.

"Bryn?!" The Mabari quit snarling, ears perking at the name as he looked in her direction. It was him! Though the Bandits didn't seem too pleased with their presence, not like the dog.

"Hey, you-Whoa!" The Bandit was bowled over as the Mabari began tugging at the holds even harder, finally breaking free as he barreled towards Shaylar, scrambling up the hill. He skidded to a stop when an arrow flew over his head, though before it could hit Shaylar she found a shield in front of her face, which easily deflected the arrow. Alistair looked angry, though his look was directed at the Bandits, and while he charged down the hill, Morrigan began waving her staff, conjuring up a fire spell.

Shaylar was about to pull out her bow when she was bowled over by a large mass. She felt a warm tongue lapping at her face, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh as she tried to pry the dog from her, of course first giving him a strong hug.

She heard screaming and glanced over the hill, the last of the Bandits burning alive before she watched Alistair put him out of his misery, stabbing right through his head.

"Maybe next time you should send them a letter before we show up!" Alistair called from the bottom of the hill as she and Morrigan slid down to meet him, the dog hot on his master's heels.

"Sorry..." She apologized to both Morrigan and Alistair with a slight bow. She hadn't meant to attract attention. "But I saw Bryn and I just..."

"I know." Alistair's tone was one of understanding, but he was aware that she knew she had to be more careful. The male then bent down in front of the Mabari, who cocked his head to the side.

"He survived somehow...much more resilient than he looks isn't he?" The dog let out a conversational sounding bark, but Shaylar only nodded.

"Tell me we aren't going to keep the mangy mutt with us?..." Morrigan seemed to already know as Shaylar clicked her tongue. "Come on, it won't be that bad." Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt. We keep Alistair around for whatever reason."

"Hey!" Alistair protested, though stopped when he spotted Shaylar heading towards the two horses, now left behind, where she began unhitching them from their beaten up cart.

"What are you doing?" She gave one of the horse's sides a light pat.

"Getting us a faster way to Lothering."


	8. Loving Lothering

**Chapter 7: Loving Lothering**

* * *

"See? Told you this would be faster!" She called over the wind, feeling it in her hair as the horse's hooves pounded against the dirt path that would carry them all the way to Lothering. Morrigan had insisted on having one horse to herself, rather than sharing with either of the Wardens, which had been just fine with Alistair. Shaylar sat just behind him on the roan colored horse, her arms wrapped firmly around his waist as it sped along. He had been a little nervous about it first, but he preferred in the end that it was him controlling the horse anyway. 'I have a bad history with horses.' She had said simply, causing him to wonder. But she seemed to embarrassed to say anymore about it. But then again riding horses, to nobles, seemed to be a big thing. It was just something they knew how to do. Maybe she had refused to say more because she didn't. However, Alistair and Morrigan had decided that it was best not to press further on the matter despite curiosity, at least on Alistair's part.

Morrigan trailed behind them, briefly looking back behind her as clumsy paws also hit the ground with great force. Bryn was thundering after them, and thankfully because of his build as a Mabari, they hadn't had to make too many stops to let him catch his breath. If there was anything that Morrigan could appreciate about the little mongrel, it was that. Not that she would ever admit it of course.

"I suppose you did. Still, I wouldn't have imagined entering Lothering on the back of a smelly beast. It's as if we don't have enough-" Before she could finish, Alistair interjected over the wind.

"...Insert some joke about Alistair's hygiene here, yes we know already, bloody witch." He countered, to which she raised an eyebrow.

"Ohhh, so I see you've returned to us. I suppose that your grief was not worth falling on a blade after all, hm?" Shaylar sighed as she rested her head against Alistair's back, the warden so busy arguing with Morrigan that he didn't notice. The flat look on her face was one she felt she was going to be adopting often, sitting between these two.

"Why is my grief so hard for you to understand?" He demanded. "What if your mother died? What would you do?"

"Do you mean before or after I stopped laughing?" There was a pause in the conversation, even Shaylar had to think about that one.

"...Right, very creepy, Forget that I asked." Shaylar cleared her throat.

"If you two are quite done quarreling." Morrigan snorted, While Alistair sighed.

"Sorry. We're done. Probably." Unless of course the smart ass of a witch had anything to add. Though for the time being, the woman remained quiet as they slowed down, just enough that they could talk properly.

"So, these treaties..." Shaylar mentioned, her eyes on Alistair's pack, which was hanging from the horse's saddle. "Where are we even supposed to go first? The elves, the dwarves, or the mages? We also should think about Denerim...I mean that's where that treacherous bastard Loghain probably headed right? Where the throne was waiting, empty and...Howe could be.. " She nearly growled, and Alistair glanced back at her.

"Well, I think-"

"Be careful, that sounds dangerous for you."

"Shut up Morrigan." Shaylar quickly interjected.

"Oh sweet Andraste thinking what Alistair?" She asked, shooting a look at Morrigan, although the apostate merely shrugged.

"Maybe we should go to Redcliffe first." Shaylar drew her lips into a thin line as she contemplated this. She didn't know what was in Redcliffe. It was nearby the Circle of Magi, but still nearly a day's journey, if she was looking at the map correctly. Judging the silence, Alistair cleared his throat.

"We could seek the help of Arl Eamon. He raised me for a while and I...think we need all the help we can get. I think he'd know how to go about this." Shaylar nodded slowly.

"Morrigan, what do you think?" She asked, to which Morrigan pursed her lips a moment.

"I would say we go directly after your enemy. This man Loghain. If we crush him first he'll have a harder time getting in our way." Alistair snorted.

"Is there something wrong, Alistair? Something you may like to share with the rest of the group?" Shaylar sucked in a deep breath. If it was going to be like this all the way to Lothering, maybe she could just take a nap.

"Oh nothing, you just seem to be forgetting the hundreds of men in that oh I don't know, _army_ that Loghain has backing him up." Morrigan crossed her arms atop the meandering horse.

"I was simply asked for my opinion, and I gave it." Shaylar quickly tightened her grip on Alistair and squeezed, causing him to cough rather than retort to what Morrigan had said.

"You two, relax please. We'll...figure out what to do. Right now I just want to focus on actually getting to Lothering."

"Then why bring up the topic?" Morrigan asked, to which she looked back at her.

"Because I wanted to start thinking about it early. Now you two have given me something to think about. Thank you." She turned back around, leaving Morrigan only slightly bewildered as Alistair clicked his heels to the Horse's side, Morrigan doing the same when she noticed Alistair was picking up speed. Bryn barked excitedly, perfectly happy to start running behind the horses after the nice break they had given him by allowing the horses to amble along. Occasionally, Alistair would ask Morrigan if they were headed in the right direction, and thankfully for Shaylar, they were as civil about exhanging directions as they could be. It was better than having them constantly bicker, and she would settle for a moment of peace once in a while. It would have to do if she was going to come out of this adventure at least partially sane.

* * *

"I'm not sure what we can really do about the bandits, My lady." Abbadon listened as Roland conversed with the elder of Lothering. They had been informed of bandits, blocking the way into Lothering and charging refugees 20 silver to get in, often robbing them of all they owned when they couldn't pay up. The thought actually disgusted him a good deal. Making so much money off of those who were looking for safety? It was pretty low. But there wasn't much he could do right now. He was still only just regaining his strength. Being out on the daily patrols Roland took was surely helping though, Abbadon was never really one to just sit around and do nothing.

"I'm not sure there much we can do, Ser Gilmore. We've been so busy with all the refugees it is just...overwhelming." She mentioned through coughs. The elder hadn't been doing so well herself. Whether it was all this stress, or trying to care for too many people, it was clear that she was becoming ill. And there wasn't much they could do about that either.

"I understand. We'll just need to protect the refugees that are already in the village, in case the bandits decide to advance inward." Roland suggested, to which she nodded.

"It sounds like the most solid plan that I've heard all morning." She mentioned, to which Roland smiled politely at her, before standing up.

"I just...wish we had someone to collect some Elfroot for us, but with the bandits running amok on all sides of the city, I can't exactly bother anyone to go."

"What will Elfroot do?" Abbadon asked curiously. The elder turned her eyes on him, her look still kindly.

"Mixed with the right ingredients, it can make a good health poultice, and that can save a lot of those who have begun feeling ill due to the close quarters being all that we can offer right now." She explained, to which Abbadon nodded, still seeming interested.

"How much would one need to know of herbalism to make it?" He asked, to which she shrugged.

"Not very much, but there are more complicated recipes out there, and doing it wrong would certianly hinder more than help." Abbadon looked down in thought.

"I see..." Roland looked at him curiously, before green eyes shifted to the elder.

"We'll keep an eye out. If we see any Elfroot we'll bring it right back to you." He promised, receiving a thankful look from the elder before she allowed Roland and Abbadon to walk off together.

"I really wish we could do something. About the Bandits, they seem to be a problem no matter where you look. Refugees can't pass into the city, no one can collect any elfroot, it's ridiculous." Abbadon vented as he and Roland continued over the bridge.

"I understand your frustration, Abbadon. But we must not be hasty. After all, you're still in no condition to fight, and even if you were, do you really think the two of us alone could take on a throng of bandits. There isn't even anyone who knows a thing about what they're doing to come and help us. Everyone is occupied." Abbadon, who had thought about saying something while Roland was talking, bit his tongue when he realized that he was right. Everyone was too occupied to take care of the bandits. He was injured and even if he wasn't, he and Roland's meager number would do nothing against bandits alone. He didn't like the taste it left in his mouth, but for now he would have to leave the whole subject of bandits alone.

"But that kind of makes me wonder...how did Andrea get all of her supplies?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Well, she collected it before the bandits showed up. Unfortunately, she used a lot of her materials and resources up while she was treating you. I...wasn't supposed to tell you, but I figure you'll force it out of me sooner or later." Abbadon frowned slightly.

"What makes you say that?"

"You and your sister always did use the same form of persuasion." He mentioned. "Although the other guards did always like your sister better." He said jokingly, the frown only deepening.

"And why was that?"

"You never let them carry on with their card games." His companion answered simply.

"Shaylar was as irresponsible with work as they were sometimes. I remember how many times Aldous made her stay late in the library because she hadn't been paying attention." Roland snorted.

"I always did wonder why it was she could recite the Cousland's history on command." At the fond memory of his sister, Abbadon let out a slight chuckle.

"I wouldn't have been surprised if Aldous had been reciting it at her bedside every night. He was determined to get her to learn no matter what." He remembered that their teacher had always been eager to teach them something new. He credited Aldous for everything he knew about Fereldan and the past of his own family. His mother and father had always been too busy to tell them about it themselves. That was why they had hired Aldous. But his thoughts shifted back to Andrea, he'd have to pay her back somehow, now that he was sure she had spent so much time assisting him.

"Excuse me Roland, I'll meet up with you later." He mentioned, not saying anything else and barely leaving any time to Roland to comment or protest as he moved back over the bridge. He reached Andrea's and carefully made his way inside, where she seemed to be checking her inventory.

"Abbadon? What is it? You flew in here like the Darkspawn were at your back!" She commented, tilting her head curiously. He sat down at her table, leaning on his palm as he caught his breath. She frowned and moved over to him.

"Abbadon...you shouldn't be straining yourself like that. You could re-open your wounds." But he didn't look phased, instead, he looked at her firmly.

"Andrea." She blinked, a slight pink dusting her face as she noticed how serious he looked.

"Teach me a few things about herbalism." The sweet young ginger stared at him for a few moments, opening and closing her mouth, as if trying to think of a response.

"...Why?" It was like his piercing green eyes were burning through her skin, or so she felt.

"So I can make sure I can pay you back before I leave Lothering." She seemed bewildered.

"You d-don't need to-"

"I want to."

* * *

Alistair glanced back again as he felt the weight of Shaylar's head shift against his back again. She was sleeping, but he was mostly making sure she didn't slip from the back of the horse. He could feel her occasionally squeeze his sides, and he tried his best to settle her when she would squirm. He knew better than anyone, what kind of dreams she must be having. Grey Wardens were plagued by these dreams constantly, whether they remembered what they were about or not. But to sleep and remain asleep for as long as she had while one of these dreams was haunting her, he decided she had to be really tired after fighting the Darkspawn they had run into during one of their pit stops they had made for Bryn. The sun was starting to shift in the sky, telling Alistair that it was at least approaching the late afternoon hours.

"I feel as though it would be easier for you to control that horse if she was awake. You wouldn't need to watch her so closely." Morrigan warned, though she could already tell Alistair wasn't planning on heeding her.

"It's fine. She's already not eating properly. Little to no sleep is the last thing she needs." He insisted as both horses fell to amble at the same speed.

"So Alistair, tell me, are you not the senior of the two of you that are left of the Grey Wardens of Fereldan?" Morrigan asked, Alistair rolling his eyes as he kept one hand on the reins he was holding, the other used to lock Shaylar's arms around his mid-section.

"Why are you asking me this?" He questioned, keeping his eyes on the road ahead rather than Morrigan.

"T'is,strange, is it not, that despite being the more experienced Warden, you would allow Shaylar to lead as you do?" Alistair felt his eyes roll, almost as if it were an involuntary reflex to Morrigan's presence at this point.

"I just don't like to lead, that's all. Bad things happen when I lead." Morrigan smirked.

"Ah, my misunderstanding then. It was just...if I didn't know better, I would have thought that you-"

"I would appreciate it if you would stop talking. Or went to crawl in a bush to die. Either one would be nice though I would kind of prefer the latter. Thanks." Morrigan decided it best to let the conversation though, lest they be scolded if they woke Shaylar again, spare her ears. Not even Flemeth had reprimanded her as much, it seemed.

"Ho there, refugees." Both stopped at the voice as they came to the very bridge that would take them into Lothering. Alistair gripped Shaylar's hands, still wrapped around his waist firmly, as a way of trying to wake her. He didn't like the look of the rag tag bunch of men that stood before them. She stirred but it didn't quite seem to wake her, though Bryn assisted by growling lowly, jolting her the rest of the way awake. Ever since what had happened at the castle, she had learned that taking Bryn's growling seriously was usually a good idea. she lifted her head from Alistair's back as he turned the horse so she could see what was going on in front of her.

"Don't look so nervous, we'd just like to talk. Morrigan and Alistair slid off their horses first, Shaylar sliding off the back of the roan mare last.

"What do you want?" Shaylar asked warily, not trusting the look in the lead man's eyes.

"We're the toll collectors of this bridge. We'll give you passage to the city for only twenty silver. She felt Alistair's breath on her ear as he whispered to her.

"Highway men, be careful." But Shaylar had already been aware that they looked more like bandits than they did toll collectors. On top of that, she hadn't remembered a fee last time her father had taken them to Lothering.

"We're not paying any toll." She insisted finally, her tone adopting the propriety one would expect from a Cousland, though Shaylar only really possessed the voice when she felt she needed it. The lead man frowned.

"Hm, that's not really what I like to hear. But you still have a chance to change your mind before we have to take the money off your corpse." Alistair and Morrigan watched to see what Shaylar would counter with, seeing that she seemed a bit impatient.

"We're not changing our mind. Should you really be threatening a Grey Warden?" She asked, to which Alistair raised an eyebrow. One of the men gulped.

"A-Aren't the Grey Wardens supposed to be good? Maybe we should leave them alone boss...after all...they didn't look like no travelers to me in the first place." The lead man seemed thoughtful, but Morrigan noticed a glint in his eye that she didn't like.

"Grey Wardens? Why didn't you say so...we'll move aside." They did just that as the group slid back onto their horses, though Morrigan edged hers close enough to the Warden pair so she could mutter.

"Keep your wits about you." It was all she said before bringing her horse to amble past the men, Bryn following as Alistair led their horse to do the same. Though it was moments later that Shaylar winced in pain as an arrow grazed her shoulder, though it deflected and fell as it slapped against Alistair's shoulder pad. Hearing Shaylar gasp in pain and feeling the arrow, Alistair drew his sword.

"I was wondering how long that would take." He commented as he turned the horse around.

"I'm sick of people ruining my clothes..." Shaylar muttered as she drew her bow, eyeing Morrigan as she brought her staff out of its holder on her back.

"Sorry, but I changed my mind, we can't just let you go. There's a mighty bounty on your heads that we'd like for ourselves." The lead man uttered, leaving Shaylar looking confused.

"What does he mean by that?" But they had no time to ponder it as the Bandits charged them, and Alistair brought the Horse into a charge, running his sword across the Archer's neck as they passed.

"That was for my dress!" Shaylar called as the man fell. It was clear through the battle that Alistair was directing the horse in ways that would protect her, probably because she still didn't have the armor she needed. Finally, it came down to only the leader of the band being left.

"Wait, please! Can we...just forget about this? I will leave now, if so..." Shaylar frowned.

"Sorry, no can do. We can't have you doing this to anyone else." As Alistair moved to strike, the man slashed the horse across the snout. Startled and injured, the horse reared up, taking off in the direction of the village. Morrigan watched as the horse took off in a wild state, Alistair clinging to the reins while Shaylar clung to him for dear life, she clicked her tongue.

"Wrong choice." She struck him with a fire spell, watching his body burn only a moment longer before she turned her horse to follow after the path of the scared horse, and her companions, Bryn also hot on the trail.

* * *

Abbadon was still listening to Andrea talk of the many herbs and combinations that could be used to create health poultices. It was actually fairly interesting, as he watched her hands glide across the pages of the book she was holding. "And Elfroot can also be used in many modern dishes, believe it or not. Though...they usually aren't very tasty. You can usually find dishes that use Elfroot in lower class society."

"Interesting. No wonder Nan never used Elfroot in anything." He murmured as he looked down at the words on the page.

Roland was relaxing in the corner of the room, though the three couldn't seem to ignore the ruckus that was forming outside. Andrea finally shut the book, looking to the door.

"It sounds like something is going on, shouldn't we look?" Roland looked up, seeming like he was trying to rouse himself from a nap.

"Well...it doesn't sound dangerous..."

"Abbadon!" Andrea chided, Abbadon holding his hands up defensively.

"Alright, Alright, come on Roland, let's see what's going on." Roland nodded, standing up and following him from Andrea's home. It was then that a horse came leaping from the bridge, bucking wildly with two passengers on board. Abbadon and Roland barely had time to response as it came past, settling in the square of the village, though circling and bucking wildly.

"A-Alistair, stop it!" Abbadon and Roland both froze at the voice that came from the back of the horse, just as Morrigan came trotting across the bridge with the dog at her Horse's heels.

"They never taught me to deal-with this kind of thing!"

"Learn!" The command was sharp.

"I-I'm sorry-whoa! Let me just pick up a book real quick!-"

"A-Alistair!" They finally couldn't hold on anymore, and both passengers were bucked right off the horse. There was a thud as they both hit the ground, Morrigan slowing her horse down beside them.

"Is no one hurt?" She asked simply, though it didn't sound like she cared much.

"Peachy..." Alistair muttered as he rubbed his head. There was a pause for a moment as two of the villagers caught onto the rampant horse's reins, finally gaining control enough to calm it.

"I'd be peachier if you got off me Alistair...ow!" Alistiar stood up quickly as he realized he was on top of Shaylar. It hadn't been very gentlemanly not to catch her, or at least try, he realized, but he hadn't been thinking too quickly.

"Sorry, when it bucked us off I wasn't exactly thinking fast." he apologized, helping her to her feet.

"You think at all?"

"Shut up Morrigan." Though the usual tension between Morrigan and Alistair was broken when a familiar voice cried out.

"Shaylar?" A look of disbelief crossed Shaylar and Alistair's faces when they recognized the voice.

"Abbadon?!"


	9. Loathing Lothering

**Chapter 8: Loathing Lothering**

* * *

"Abbadon!" No sooner than he heard her say her name again did he feel her collide with his form, nearly knocking him over. He heard her strangled cries of relief leave her at once, and he gently wrapped his arms around her back. Everyone seemed to quiet all at once, most people staring at the odd scene of the two siblings. He held her tightly for a while, Roland and Andrea both watching them from Abbadon's side of things, and Alistair and Morrigan from Shaylar's.

"I thought you were..." He ran his hand in gentle circles on her back.

"It's alright. I did too..." He murmured to her quietly. She choked out another strained sob, and he looked up to Alistair and Morrigan. Shaylar still couldn't answer him, so his attention turned to Alistair.

"So that's it then...no one else was with you?" Alistair shook his head.

"No, it's just like everyone said."

"Except for the whole 'Grey Wardens killed the king thing'. It's good to see you made it though." Abbadon gave a light snort.

"As if I know how. But I'm not willing to question it right now." It fell silent again and finally, Andrea spoke up.

"Abbadon...why don't you bring them inside? I'll prepare some tea."

"...Sure."

He pulled his sister to her feet and though she had calmed down enough, she was still pushed tightly to her brother's side. Roland, Alistair, Morrigan, and Bryn followed after them into Andrea's house when the woman motioned for them to follow, quickly telling a few of the villagers to place their horses within the stables before shutting the door behind her.

Shaylar sat in between her brother and Roland, finally calm enough to speak again.

"Abbadon, how did you even make it to Lothering?" She asked, Abbadon shrugging simply. Roland cut in.

"On the back of a bear, according to some of the crazier refugees." He explained. Shaylar suddenly turned to look at him, observing him for a moment before moving to hug him as well, a bit awkwardly as well. But unlike Abbadon, she hadn't rushed to pleasantries of the old relationship they shared as royals and servants back at the castle.

"Rory! I can't believe you're here either..how did you-" But she noticed the look in his eyes and stopped, placing her hands into her lap. "Never mind, I don't care how. I'm really glad to see that you're safe." She mentioned happily, to which he smiled at her.

"Shaylar, it's good to see that you're alive and well. We ourselves had feared the worst for a while, but it's good to see you're okay." He mentioned, giving her a warm smile of his own.

"Yeah, well I don't think I would have made it as far as Lothering without Alistair and Morrigan. Even if...you know, Alistair did fall on me." Her fellow Warden's mouth gaped slightly as he caught her playful tone.

"I wouldn't have been bucked off if you hadn't been distracting me!" Shaylar who had been looking away from him with eyes closed, opened one eye.

"And what kind of Templar doesn't know how to ride a horse?"

"I could ask you the same question. You know, sans the Templar part." They glowered at one another for a while, before they broke out into chuckling. She finally sat back.

"Right, Rory this is Alistair, and this is Morrigan." She explained, looking back to her two companions. "Alistair, Morrigan, this is Ror-Roland. He was one of the most trusted knights at our castle. Though of course, Abbadon and I have known him since we were children, and he was a squire. Right Rory." Roland seemed to remember it fondly.

"Probably wouldn't have made it through my squire years without the two of you." Alistair watched them for a moment, Morrigan doing the same with a smirk on her face, before nodding.

"Pleasure, I suppose." Though she didn't reach to shake his hand.

"Yes it's nice to meet you." Alistair's tone was a little dry, and Abbadon took notice of it and quickly switched introductions.

"And I'd like the three of you to meet Andrea. She's been taking care of me since I was left in Lothering." He explained, the sheepish young woman raising a hand in greeting. Shaylar offered a warm smile to her as well.

"Thank you so much for getting him back on his feet. It terrified me, thinking he was dead, but he's here today because of you." She blushed slightly.

"O-Oh, I don't think I deserve such praise but thank you...it is lovely to finally meet you as well." Andrea set out cups in front of each party and served warm jasmine tea. Morrigan stared at hers, before looking up.

"Shaylar. Do you have the slightest idea of where you'd like to go next?"

"Huh?"

"You've had plenty of time to think about it, haven't you?"

"Well yes, but I-" She bit her lip, looking up at Abbadon, who nodded.

"If Alistair would like to fill me in on everything tomorrow, then I can help figure out where to head next." Alistair blinked, as if being brought back into the conversation had roused him from deep thought.

"Huh? Oh sure." Roland looked down at Shaylar.

"I can take you on Patrol if you'd like tomorrow, then." Shaylar nodded.

"That would be great, I'd like to see Lothering in more detail."

* * *

Sometimes she wished the sun would rise later, because it would have meant she got to sleep more. Andrea's house was a little cramped, but she had slept just between Morrigan and Andrea that night, much to Morrigan's dismay they had convinced her not to sleep outside as she had wanted. Though Shaylar was aware she wasn't really comfortable around so many people. In fact as soon as she had woken up, she claimed she was headed out to get some air and left without much more explanation. But she trusted that she would be back, in due time.

She ran her brush over the mare who now had a scar running across her snout. But she was much calmer than she had been the day before. And she seemed happier. Whoever worked these stables had done a good job in fixing her up. The other horse they had brought with them poked its head from the stall lazily, working away at a feedbag.

"Ready to go, Shaylar?" Roland asked as he entered the stable, briefly stretching his arms over his head. She looked back at him, nodding slightly.

"Sure. Could we take the horse though? I think her legs could use some stretching, properly after yesterday's ordeal." she mentioned, to which he laughed.

"Alright. Are you sure you don't want to take both?" She stretched a bit to reach behind the ear of the lazier horse, giving it a gentle scratch.

"I think he just wants a break." Roland gave a nod, taking the reins of the mare and leading her outside, Shaylar following closely after. He helped her up onto it behind him, and she hung her legs from the side. She had been perfectly satisfied with the dress that Andrea had lent her, but today she hoped she'd find some new armor. However, her bow and quiver remained strapped to her back. Roland spurred the horse into a light walk and Shaylar watched the world of Lothering's people from the back of it, holding onto Roland's waist. There were so many people here...so many lives, lives that would potentially be lost to the threat of the blight soon enough.

"Something on your mind?" Roland asked, looking back at her. She shrugged gently, eyes unable to stop wandering their surroundings.

"A lot, you could say. Alistair told me that it isn't exactly normal to become a Grey Warden and then suddenly lose almost every other Warden in the course of one battle, so now I'm sort of wondering what's next." She explained, biting her lip in thought. Roland shrugged.

"I'm not quite sure what exactly I can tell you. But...tell me, is being made a Grey Warden really as hard as they say?" Shaylar thought about it. She knew that she couldn't really talk about the joining, even if their leader was in fact not here. Alistair would get mad at her. Instead, she thought of another way to word it.

"Do you remember all those surprise quizzes Aldous used to give us?"

"Ah yes, I indeed hated those."

"It was kind of like that. But more painful." Her tone was short, telling Roland that it was all she wished to say about it.

"Ah so you're talking Cousland History pop quiz bad."

"Infact I am." They both laughed a bit, and she realized how much she had missed the young knight. Certainly talking to him made her feel a little more at home than she had felt in a while. She sighed breifly.

"So this Andrea..." She murmured, causing Roland to raise an eyebrow. "She took care of Abbadon, did she?" It was asked in such a tone that Roland scoffed.

"We're not playing your matchmaker games, if that's what you're thinking."

"Rory, you're no fun." She said, displeased her idea had been shot down so quickly. Then again, maybe she should have been thinking about it to begin with. After all...Andrea didn't seem like the most travel ready woman on earth. Even if she and Abbadon did take a liking to each other in such a way, there was no way she was going to leave Lothering, and no way she could let Abbadon stay with the threat right on their heels. She had just found him, and she'd be damned if she were to leave without him.

"I'd rather be no fun than get in trouble with your brother."

"Is he scarier than me or something?"

"I'm sorry, you have seen the force your brother puts behind a sword, haven't you?" She bit the inside of her cheek.

"Fine. I suppose I see your point." It went silent for a while after that as she lost herself in thought again. That was until they heard the crying of a child.

"Mother! Mooother!" He repeated over and over again, Shaylar signaling Roland to follow the sound to its source. A young boy say by the bridge, seeming about ready to cry. Shaylar slipped off the horse once she had come to a stop, kneeling beside the boy.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked, the ginger finally looking up at her.

"Have you seen my mother?"

"No, but maybe you can tell me what happened?" He looked thoughtful for a moment, like he wasn't sure talking to her was a good idea. But finally after another moment or two of arguing with himself, he seemed to let the side that wanted to talk to her win out.

"Some bad men with swords came to our house! Mother told me to run, and she said she was right behind me. But when I turned around, she wasn't there anymore! I...don't know what happened to her." Shaylar froze up, turning back to Roland as if silently asking for a response. But he could offer her none. She finally turned back to him, handing him two pieces of silver.

"Here...you must be hungry." She mentioned, watching as the boy smiled.

"Wow, I can really keep a whole 2 silvers?" He asked excitedly, to which she nodded.

"My friend and I can take you to get something to eat if you want." She added kindly, Roland nodding from atop the horse. The boy backed up slightly, holding the silver to his chest.

"Mother told me not to talk to strangers." Shaylar smiled at him, chuckling a bit.

"I see. Well what if I wasn't a stranger? My name is Shaylar." She held out her hand, and after a moment of thinking, the boy seemed to decide, took her hand and shook it.

"I'm Devan."

* * *

"So Alistair. Catch me up to speed here." Abbadon said as he and Alistair walked through the village square. "What's going on, and where have you guys been planning to go?" He asked, watching as Alistair took some documents from his pack, holding them out for Abbadon to look at.

"The treaties we collected in the Wilds. We can enlist help from the Mages, the Dalish Elves, and the Dwarves, and all of them are obligated to help us when there's a blight." He explained, continuing after he cleared his throat. "I mentioned to your sister that we may want to head to Redcliffe first. Arl Eamon might have some advice that we could use. I always found his guidance helpful as a child."

"What do you mean by that?" Alistair thought about it for a moment, biting his tongue.

"He raised me because well...I'm a bastard."

"So you don't know who your father is?"

"No. My mother was a servant girl for the castle. And when she died, Arl Eamon took me in." As Alistair explained, Abbadon raised an eyebrow. It didn't make a lot of sense to him. Why would an Arl take in the bastard son of a servant woman? However, he didn't voice his question, continuing to listen to Alistair. Apparently after the Arl had married his wife had demanded Alistair to be sent away, when he was placed in the Chantry, learning to become a Templar despite not being the most religious person out there..

"If it hadn't been for Duncan invoking the Right of Conscription, the Grand Cleric wouldn't have let me go." Abbadon blinked.

"Why?"

"Let's just say that once the Chantry has put you on the path of a Templar, they don't exactly want to let you go." Abbadon nodded. He understood enough, but decided they had gone a little too far off topic.

"I think you're right, Alistair."

"You do? I'm not used to hearing that one." The warden seemed surprised, and Abbadon chuckled before explaining his reasoning.

"If Arl Eamon can point us in the right direction, then we should go see what he has to say before we think about trying to approach anyone we have a treaty for." He explained, to which Alistair nodded. It seemed like a solid plan, and they could leave as soon as everyone was ready to. He was about to say something else, when he noticed Alistair staring at something.

"What?"

"Isn't that your friend?" He asked, pointing just ahead of them, where a woman was huddled by a prison cage, ginger colored hair unmistakeable.

"Andrea?" Abbadon called, which seemed to startle her as he and Alistair made their way over to her. They slowed a bit when they noticed who was in the cell that she was standing net too. He was a large, off colored man with piercing violet orbs, his large arms crossed over his chest.

"A-Abbadon and Alistair! I didn't expect to see you...right here I..." She stumbled over her words, and Alistair couldn't help himself.

"If she's about to tell us she's not up to anything suspicious I'll be inclined not to believe her." Abbadon rolled his eyes, before looking back at Andrea.

"What are you doing?" Andrea bit her lip, looking at the man, then at them.

"I...was just feeding him, just a little bit. I know he's a prisoner, but it isn't fair that they keep him locked up like this without any food or water at all." Alistair briefly remembered Shaylar doing the same thing back at the camp in Ostagar. Women seemed to have a knack for this.

"Shouldn't there be a guard posted here though?" Abbadon asked, looking around. He wasn't expecting the deep voice that answered him.

"They're all too scared of me." Abbadon turned his attention to him. He could see why they would be, but the only thing he could think of that would explain Andrea's lack of fear would be her concern for his health. Women worried about that no matter what the circumstance it seemed. Or maybe it was just the ones he knew.

"And why exactly are you caged up like that anyway?" He remembered now, the kind of creature...or person, he wasn't really sure, that this man looked like. Qunari, that was what it was.

"I killed a family of eight." The lack of regret that came with his statement was almost astounding. Just like that? He sort of wondered what they had done, but decided not to ask. She felt Andrea's light push on his chest, and willingly backed up, Alistair following after them.

"He's told me a lot more than he will you. He's been suffering since the Chantry put him in that cage. I beg you, you have to free him somehow." Abbadon opened his mouth, but didn't get a chance to speak as Alistair interjected.

"Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea! Let's free the crazy Qunari murder so he can kill us too! I just love a good plan." Abbadon looked down at her.

"Sure, we'll think of something."

"Did you hear nothing I just said?"

"Would you do it if Shaylar was the one asking?"

"I..." he paused, catching the look in Abbadon's eye. "Fine, we'll think of something." Andrea brightened at the response.

"Oh thank you! I'm sure he'll be so grateful!" Alistair looked up at the man who was looking back at them from within the cage. Sure, grateful. That was the word he was looking for. If it was the Chantry that locked him up, the only one who would have the key was the Revered Mother, and he was almost positive she wouldn't be giving up the key all too easily. But if Abbadon came up with a plan later, he supposed he'd be willing to hear it.

* * *

"I'm so glad he was selling armor! Now I have everything I need again!" Shaylar said cheerfully as they finally stopped within the stables. Roland slid off the horse, a concerned look on his face.

"And he gave you such a deal too. Though I would have too if you had threatened to bash me over the head with my own wares."

"He had it coming. Why would you charge twenty silver for one Poultice? It's ridiculous!" She claimed as she slid off next. It was just stupid, how the merchant they met had been charging the people so much, and Shaylar had been quick to...remedy the situation. He wouldn't be selling anymore overpriced goods, Roland was sure. At least not while Shaylar was still in Lothering.

"Roland, finished with patrol?" Abbadon's voice rang through the stables as he and Alistair walked through the doors. He took note of his sister's happy state, and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, though your sister has been off scaring merchants."

"Merchants who had it coming." Shaylar added quickly. Though her attention shifted to Abbadon soon afterwards. "So what's the plan?" she asked, knowing that they had gone out together to discuss the plan in the first place.

"We're going to Redcliffe, to see Arl Eamon." Roland looked uncomfortable for a moment, a look Abbadon caught.

"What?"

"You haven't heard? It's news all over Lothering." He mentioned uncomfortably.

"What is?"

"Arl Eamon has fallen deathly ill." Alistair's eyes widened.

"He is?" Shaylar frowned, watching Alistair closely. Though Abbadon didn't seem to be shifting his thoughts.

"All the more reason to go then. We'll leave tomorrow, as soon as we can. Roland, come with me so we can explain all this to Andrea, speak to the elder. We'll need you to come, of course." Roland nodded. Of course he was going to go. Now that he found them, he wasn't planning on being left behind to begin with. As Roland followed Abbadon out, Shaylar kept an eye on Alistair as he sat down in the middle of a large mountain of straw.

"Alistair, are you okay? I...remember you mentioning that Arl Eamon raised you...so..." she wandered over to the straw hill as well, sitting down next to him.

"He's not dead, at least not from how it sounds but...it sort of feels like someone is punching me in the gut repeatedly." She gently placed a hand on his arm, though he didn't seem to notice, this time.

"Abbadon still wants to go Alistair. Whatever's wrong, maybe we can help." He stared down at the ground ahead of him.

"It just feels like...Duncan, and now Eamon..." Shaylar sat patiently, waiting for him to continue at his own pace.

"I feel like I still should have been out on that battle field with Duncan. I should have been able to do something. Now one of the most important people in my life is gone." Shaylar knew telling him what she was about to wouldn't invoke a change in his feelings, but it slipped out anyway.

"It wouldn't have made a difference Alistair. You would have been gone too." Something in Alistair flared as he shook off her hand, staring at her harshly.

"I'm pretty sure I would have been better off that way!" His sudden snapping was something he regretted immediately, when he noticed the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes again. Even though she tried, she couldn't help it when they slipped down her face. Alistair wasn't sure what to say for a moment.

"I'm sorry...I-!" He couldn't finish as she shot forward. He felt a warm sensation spread through his body, her arms wrap around his neck, and his back hit the straw. She was kissing him, the tears still falling, he could feel them on his face. His eyes were wide and he felt paralyzed. When she pulled away, they were locked in a gaze neither could seem to break, and she leaned down again, kissing him with a bit more of a gentle touch, which he was able to respond to, even if it was a bit clumsy. She finally pulled away, scrambling back to her feet.

"I-I'm sorry, that wasn't appropriate of me...I just...Alistair...d-don't ever think that." she ran from the stable before he could respond. Instead, he found himself wondering if that had really happened, a deep blush covering his cheeks. He could indeed feel them burning, but he decided it was probably best to leave her alone for now. Whatever had just happened had been the result of what he had carelessly said anyway.


	10. Leaving Lothering

**Chapter 9: Leaving Lothering**

* * *

Both Abbadon and Morrigan found themselves wondering briefly why Alistair and Shaylar were so far apart as they entered the Tavern altogether that night. Andrea had suggested going, just to let off some steam. They had all been more or less on edge, staying in Lothering with the threat of Darkspawn threat looming so close. It felt as if at any moment, the whole army would come busting through the gates of Lothering. It wasn't any sort of thing the three Grey Wardens wanted to witness again. They knew they would, eventually, but they had hoped that it would be a while yet. But it didn't really explain the behavior. Shaylar was on the far side of the group, talking to Roland and Andrea, while Alistair was walking on his other side, Neither Morrigan or Abbadon exchanged words, but they did exchange glances very briefly.

Morrigan had been used to hearing them speak to one another most of the way to Lothering. But she decided not to focus on that fact anymore. She wasn't even sure how they had convinced her to come, but here she was. Roland had insisted that they take their weapons with them however, so she shifted the weight on her back, the staff now resting flat. They had all opted to bring their weapons, and it seemed that at least Shaylar was happy within her new armor. It seemed to be simple Grey Iron, but it was better than her prancing around in nothing but dresses. Lest they be stuck with only Abbadon and the dimwit to stop the blight. That would have been most unfortunate.

"Well here it is!" Andrea's voice rang out as they finally reached the tavern. "This is Dane's Refuge. There's been a lot of customers here lately, but it really is one of the best taverns you'll find this far south!" The group stepped inside, greeted by a half-full house. At least they had chosen a time that wasn't as busy, for it had also been one of Morrigan's terms. There was the sound of clinking glasses and hardy, drunken cheers as they found themselves two tables to spread out around.

"I'd really like to thank you all for coming." Andrea mentioned as she asked the waitress for a round of ale. Roland seemed cheerful as he sat there next to her.

"Thanks for inviting us all the same. I know coin isn't exactly the easiest thing to come by these days." Shaylar answered back as she settled in next to Abbadon. Abbadon seemed to be thinking about something.

"So...we're keeping those horses, right?"

"You bet. We can't exactly return them because we don't even know where those Bandits got them from." Shaylar explained as she felt a furry lump she could only assume was Bryn find its way under the table, laying by her feet. She reached down carefully to pat him on the back, comforted by the bristly fur under her palm.

"Were you going to give them names?" He asked suddenly, Shaylar blinking a few times at the question.

"What are you worried about that for?"

"Animals normally respond faster when there is a name to call, don't they?" Roland nodded in agreement.

"You can't exactly expect them to come to you when you're calling them both 'Horse'." Shaylar thought about it, while Morrigan nodded slightly.

"Some say that the Halla are the same. They must be called by a name to come." She could only wonder how Morrigan knew such a thing about the Halla. Aldous had once referred to the creatures when he was speaking of the Dalish Elves, but they were pretty far east. Maybe Flemeth had told her about it? She wasn't sure, but she also wasn't sure she should be questioning it. Because she knew regardless Morrigan probably wasn't going to tell her about something so trivial. Or, what she considered trivial, anyway.

"Well...Alright. In that case we'll need to think of some...but you know, I kind of like the name Hohaku. You know, for the Stallion?" Abbadon and Roland looked solemn for a brief moment, though Andrea looked intrigued.

"Why Hohaku?" She asked, tilting her head slightly. Shaylar looked up thoughtfully.

"Well, it was a story that my nanny used to tell my brothers and I all the time. It was the story of a proud Mabari who let too much of his power and pride go to his head. It was one of my favorite stories as a kid." It was then that Roland started laughing, and Shaylar raised an eyebrow.

"And what's so funny, Rory?"

"I was just remembering how much emphasis that Nan put on the fact that Hohaku was stoned in the end whenever you would bring your Mabari along." Shaylar smiled slightly, Abbadon snickering quietly, looking at Alistair who he noticed seemed to be curious.

"Bryn used to break into the larder a good twice a week, messing up all of nan's stock. Mother would always send us into the larder to get him." The talk became a little easier when the ale came around. Abbadon, Roland, and Shaylar shared stories of Highever Castle, and the others within the group took note of how happy they seemed, allowing them to revel in the good times. Of course minus Morrigan, who hadn't really desired to mingle with the others in the first place.

"Alistair, did they ever teach you anything about myths and legends in the Abbey?" Abbadon questioned as he took another sip of Ale.

"They tried not to when they could avoid it, and normally only things they found important, most of them had to do with the maker. Why?"

"I was curious. Aldous liked to teach us a little bit of everything. Shaylar, do you remember when he told us the one about the High Dragon that nearly decimated the Free Marches?" He asked, his sister looking down in an attempt to recall it.

"No...then again Aldous did always tell me that everything he said vanished into the yawning chasm between my ears. Then again, I swear sometimes he was just telling us about the dreams he had during his mid-class nap." Abbadon chuckled, bringing his tankard to his lips once again.

"Abbadon, when I was there, your father mentioned something about the two of you getting locked in the larder?" He asked the question cautiously, to which Abbadon's brow furrowed, while Roland burst out into laughter. Shaylar, a bit more relaxed thanks to the ale, took another sip.

"You want to ask these geniuses about that." She sounded pointedly cold, but the men were amused.

"We had the idea to lock Shaylar in the larder that night. It was back when Roland was still a squire. But when I led Shaylar into the larder, Roland managed to close the door too soon." Abbadon explained, looking to Roland to conclude the tale.

"Nan caught me in the kitchen and chased me out with a frying pan before I could open the door again. When I finally told the Teyrn it must have been about five in the morning. He was not happy." Roland recalled.

"That was because mother woke him and Fergus up screaming about how we had gotten kidnapped." Andrea and Alistair seemed rather amused at the story, and for a moment Shaylar could swear she even saw Morrigan hide a smirk behind her tankard. But she could never really tell much of anything when it came to Morrigan.

"Look here, I think we've just been blessed by the maker." It was about thirty minutes later that an unfamiliar voice disrupted the chatter, and the group fell silent. Andrea, probably the most peaceful of them all, stood up, holding her hands out defensively.

"Good Sir, what are you talking about? Did something happen?" The man seemed to be gathering flem within his mouth to spit, but he never did, instead speaking again.

"We've been looking for some fellows by their-" He pointed to Alistair and Abbadon. "Description all morning, but everyone told us that they haven't seen them." Abbadon narrowed his eyes. If the refugees had been afraid to tell him that they'd seen him, there must have been a reason. Slowly, he and Alistair stood up,

"And what exactly is it you want with us? I'm pretty sure it isn't afternoon tea..." Alistair added to his sentence in a mumble.

"The Regent left us behind to look for any surviving Grey Wardens, we're supposed to take care of em', once and for all." Shaylar stood up at this, joining Abbadon and Alistair in their defensive position.

"So, that throne-grabbing liar left you here? That's unfortunate." She felt a sharp pull on her shoulder and felt herself pressed to Alistair's chest as a Dagger flew past her head and into a adjacent wall. The Tavern had gone silent, eyes on the progressing situation. Alistair let her go but Abbadon was quick to push her behind them, much to her dismay. She noticed Morrigan's eyes shifting around the tavern, and she soon realized that these men weren't alone.

"I will not let you slander the regent that way-" He was paused by a hand to his chest as a red-headed women stood in between the two parties of men. She wore a garment that Abbadon recognized, from the Chantry. Blue eyes focused on shifting between the men.

"Now boys, whatever problems you may have, maybe this isn't the best place to settle them." She insisted, her accent that of thick Orlesian. This only served to make the man speaking angrier.

"Silence, you Orlesian bitch. I served at Ostagar, where he saved us from the Grey Warden's treachery. Shaylar's aggravated voice sounded from behind Alistair and Abbadon.

"If you were there one would think you'd be less blind." The thick voice of the Orlesian woman sounded again.

"He's only blindly following the orders of his master."

"Gladly following, get them boys! Kill the sister and anyone else that gets in your way." The sister clicked her tongue.

"My, my, you'd think the men of a regent would act more composed towards civilians than that." The fray broke out faster than anyone had anticipated. Alistair found his sword clashing with another who had come at him from the side that had been housing Shaylar, and Morrigan was on her feet, freely casting spells despite the witnesses. She must have felt that these people were too cowardly to actually alert the templars of Lothering to an apostate, and she was probably right. Most in fact were currently hiding as the tavern walls were spattered with blood. Abbadon withdrew his sword from one of the men, watching him fall to the floor with a loud bang as his armor hit it. Shaylar did not draw her bow, this time content to sit between himself and Alistair, likely because messing with arrows within the tavern was rather dangerous. But he spotted the sister, who he hadn't expected to jump into the fight. Her robes were spattered in blood, and she held a dagger more skillfully than one would expect a sister too. Finally, all the men but one were dead.

"P-Please don't kill me!" He insisted, and the sister stood just between he and Alistair once again.

"Alright, I think they've learned their lesson, and we can all stop fighting now." Abbadon sheathed his sword, crossing his arms.

"Take a message to Loghain."

"C-Certainly! What would you like to say?"

"The Grey Wardens know what really happened." With that, the man scrambled from the tavern, the group watching him leave, mostly with scowls, save for Andrea who slipped out from under the table.

"That was some fuss, are the lot of you alright?" the sister asked as she turned to them. Shaylar was trying to rub the blood from her face to no avail, but she paused to look back at her.

"Hm? Yeah I think we're okay...right?" She turned back, confirming it from a few nods. "Yeah we're fine. But hey...where does a sister learn to fight like that anyway?" She was greeted by her giggling, something she hadn't expected. she seemed so fierce in battle.

"You know, not all sisters led a boring life before the chantry. Some of us had more...colorful lives." She was bewildered by the comment, but smiled all the same.

"Well thanks for helping us..." Her eyes shifted to the angry looking bar tender. "But we should probably leave. Come on you guys." The other began to sheath their weapons, moving from their table, littered when Roland had thrown a dying man across it, and began heading to the door.

"Wait...you lot are Grey Wardens, are you not?" she asked, to which Abbadon nodded hesitantly.

"Starting to wonder if we should be admitting that so freely, but they already said it, so..." The woman smiled at him, placing her dagger away as well.

"I am Leliana. And now I must beg a question...may I join you on your travels? You...you do the Maker's work and...he gave a vision to me you see. I knew you would arrive in Lothering, I must help you! The Maker even sent me a sign...one beautiful rose in the center of a dead bush, you must believe me!" The wardens were giving her bewildered looks, before turning to talk to each other.

"Did she...happen to fall off a wagon when she was small?"

"I don't know, we kind of need the help. And her plea seems genuine. Maybe we do need her."

"We already have a lot of people with us though, since Roland is coming with us as well."

"I still vote that we take her."

"Alistair, she's one Archdemon short of a blight!..."

"Yeah but she seems more "Oh pretty colors!" than "Muahaha I'm princess stabbity, stab, kill kill" crazy." Alistair added.

"..."

"...Alright. Look, she fights well, maybe she'll be useful after all." Abbadon concluded, to which Shaylar had to admit he was right.

"Alright, but if I find her talking to herself in the corner of camp somewhere I can't guarantee we'll be leaving with her the next morning." Abbadon nodded. It was fair enough, he though as he turned back to Leliana.

"Welcome to the...crew? Yeah, I guess you can call it that." He said, holding out a hand which she happily took. Morrigan, watching them from next to Roland, shook her head in disapproval.

"I think they cracked their skulls harder than mother thought."

* * *

The next day hadn't really been an enjoyable one. They had been tasked with getting rid of Bandits, Bears, and even a pack of wolves, which had found the body of Devan's mother, which had depressed Shaylar just a bit. The boy had so much hope that his mother was still alive, and they hadn't made her come to the Chantry with them when they went to go give her Necklace to the boy, who they had found out had been there since the night before. Though she had been happy he took her suggestion, she hadn't been prepared to find his mother laying dead out in the wilderness.

It was after they returned from the chantry that Abbadon had went to go do something in the stables, though he hadn't told anyone what. With the forest free from bandits, Andrea had gone to collect more herbs, Morrigan had vanished once again, going to do what Shaylar had dubbed 'Morrigan things', which was now her new term and the only one she would use to explain Morrigan's absence. She knew however, she wouldn't go back to the wilds, since she had been tasked to join them by Flemeth, the witch of the wilds probably wouldn't be too pleased in seeing she had returned so soon.

Since Roland would be leaving with them the next day, he decided to go out on a final patrol, but still upset from the discovery of Devan's mother, Shaylar had refused the offer to go with him when it had come up. It left she and Alistair alone in Andrea's house. She sat comfortably in the corner, reading a scroll while Alistair sat at the table with his back to her. He seemed focused on something, and she had have a mind to look, but it didn't seem that he wanted to be bothered.

"Alistair?" He jumped slightly, seemingly fumbling to hide something. She tilted her head slightly, but when he seemed to have whatever was in front of him under control, he turned.

"Yes?" He questioned. Was he sweating? She wasn't sure, but she shook off the thought.

"About yesterday...I'm sorry." He gained a guilty look as he remembered what had gone on yesterday in the stables. "I was upset and I didn't know how to express myself so it just...c-came out that way..." Alistair blinked at her. He sure hoped that wasn't how she expressed herself to everyone. But he somehow doubted it.

"Don't worry about it. I was the one who had probably should have kept my mouth shut in the first place." He said admittedly. "I am glad you decided to talk to me again though, without the help of your friend Ale."

"Yeah, clouds of awkward silence aren't exactly my thing." the sides of his mouth quirked up into a smile as her playful tone with him returned. She tried to look just around him.

"So, what have you got there anyway?" Alistair unconsciously thumbed the petals of a beautiful red rose.

"Nothing, nothing much." She wanted to press the issue, but she didn't. Instead, Alistair quickly changed the subject.

"Abbadon said he wanted to try and find a cart to hitch the horses to. I don't really know where we'd find one, though." It was then, a little too late that he noticed the devious look in her eyes.

"Oh...I think I know where we can get one." He would be lying, Alistair would, if he said the look the youngest Cousland carried currently didn't scare him at all, because Maker knew that it did.

* * *

The cart's wheels groaned as it rumbled along the path, towards the hill that would lead them from Lothering. There was a quick whinny from the scar-faced mare that Shaylar had dubbed Dusty, while the rest of the group had agreed the stallion was to be named Hohaku as she had suggested the previous day. Morrigan seemed to dislike the sound of the clattering wheels, but said nothing as she leaned back on her seat. It comfortably fit Leliana, Morrigan, and Shaylar, while Roland walked along at the cart's side, Abbadon and Alistair sat at the reins, in the driver's seat. it was a comfortable arrangement, and of course the girls, capable of fending for themselves had offered to switch positions with the men when they got far enough. Shaylar had arranged their supplies in the middle of the cart this morning, so while there was enough room to sit, there wasn't enough to really stretch out. But that was alright, it was still a comfortable situation. Of course, it didn't really stop the dog from laying atop the supplies.

"Shaylar, please tell me that you're done scaring merchants now." Abbadon called into the back of the cart. Shaylar snickered, figuring Alistair had just gotten done telling him the whole story.

"What? He gave it to me for a sovereign!" she called back, leaning back a bit.

"Yes, after you threatened his goods."

"What? You do what you have to and that's what I did. We have a cart so stop complaining."

"Shaylar."

"Fine, I'll stop scaring merchants." She mumbled as she closed her eyes, Leliana giving a chuckle.

"I can see you're very lively." Shaylar cracked one eye open, giving a shrug.

"Abbadon just doesn't understand the meaning of survival of the fittest." she mumbled before closing her eye again.

Abbadon had repaid his debt to Andrea. When she awoke that morning she'd find a sack of health poultices that Abbadon had spent most of the day before concocting by himself within the stables. He wished he could have stayed to see her face, but they wanted to get an early start. But there was one more thing that he had to do, and he had explained the plan to Alistair and Roland that morning. Alistair leaned over.

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Positive, as long as we carry out our roles correctly. I promised I'd get him out, and I will."

"Shouldn't we have just asked the revered mother to let him go?"

"And do you really think she would have given us the key?"

"...No." Shaylar was confused when the cart suddenly stopped.

"Abbadon, Alistair? Did the horses stop listening?" She called, but got no answer. "Are they deaf or something?" Leliana offered a theory.

"Perhaps they're just checking something out on the road ahead?" Morrigan leaned back.

"Or perhaps the horses got tired of being directed by a dimwit."

"...Alistair isn't a bad driver."

"I've felt less bumps on a log." It was then that the cart jerked, Leliana and Shaylar each letting out varying gasps of surprise as the cart was driven full speed down the hill out of lothering. It was only then that the noticed Roland was positioned on the back of the cart. In the driver's seat, Abbadon held his sword out while Alistair directed the horses down the hill. As they came closer to the cage of the Qunari that Andrea had showed them yesterday, Abbadon leaned over, timing it so he could jam his sword within the lock. the flimsy lock broke off at the speeded impact, Roland hitting his sword heavily against the empty cage so it turned the cart evenly as Alistiar brought the cart to a stop. The Qunari looked confused for only a moment as the cage door swung open, and Abbadon popped up from the front of the cart.

"Come with us if you want to live." Abbadon insisted, Alistair joining him.

"That and you don't have much of a choice."


	11. Hypothetically

**Author's Note:** Ah I sometimes love the chapters in between the larger parts of the adventure.

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Hypothetically**

* * *

"So...your name is Sten?" Leliana questioned, trying to get him to talk. It had been a while since they had exited Lothering, the path that wound through the wilds past the village were indeed vaster than they had realized. The ladies had gotten out of the cart not only to allow Roland some rest, but so they could try and speak with Sten. Even Morrigan, though she didn't seem all to interested in speaking to the Qunari, had gotten out and was walking just beside Shaylar. Or maybe it was because she hadn't wanted to share the space in the cart with Roland and Bryn, Shaylar hadn't really been too sure. The only switch Alistair and Abbadon had made was who was driving.

"I believe it was Sten, warrior of the Bareseed...Seed? Sad...? Sod?" She tried to decide on exactly how it was pronounced, but it seemed that all she was earning herself was a glaring look from the Qunari. Leliana looked up to Abbadon and Alistair beifly, both noticing that Sten was growing progressively more annoyed. Though there was a difference in their looks. Alistair looked rather nervous, as if he was ready to jump to defense at any moment. Abbadon still had his eyes on the group, even if he was only looking in at certain points before calm gaze focused on the road ahead.

"Beresaad." Sten corrected finally. So he could talk after all. Alistair and Abbadon claimed to have spoken to him briefly before they left, but the man hadn't seemed all that eager to talk to the crowd of three around him. Though when he went silent again, Shaylar pursed her lips.

"Is there...some kind of sting we need to pull to get you to talk?" She asked, moving around him as if looking for said string. Leliana held out her hands in a defensive motion.

"Shaylar...maybe we should give him some space, no? He has had a bit of a rough experience." She could see Sten's brow twitching.

"Do not speak of me as if I am not standing in front of you." Alistair blinked briefly.

"I've heard that line before." He mumbled, still watching the group at the side of the wagon carefully. After a bit more of Shaylar's pestering, Sten growled.

"Parshaara!" His tone startled her into a straight walk beside Leliana, hiding at her other side.

"I think he's done talking now." She squeaked to the red head, who wore a gentle smile at Shaylar's finally understanding that the Qunari just seemed to want time to himself. After they had rescued him, he swore that his atonement for murdering the family would be helping them stop the Blight. But he hadn't counted on there being so many people. Leliana and Shaylar moved forward, meeting a pace that placed them next to Alistair and Abbadon's seat, Shaylar dropping back briefly only to pull Morrigan forward.

"Why must I always come with you?" She asked with a bit of distaste as she roughly pulled herself from Shaylar's grip. Shaylar thought about it for a moment, before nodding.

"Because you should be talking with the rest of us. I can't have you and Sten in the same group not saying a word, it's really creepy." She answered, to which Alistair mumbled.

"I like her better when she's not talking..."

"I'm sorry what t'was that?" Morrigan asked, with ever more distaste than she had carried in her voice before.

"You heard exactly what I said."

"I just wanted to see if you were stupid enough to say it again, that's all."

"I like her better when she's not-" Alistair felt a hand cover his mouth, looking back to see Abbadon was shutting him up and driving at the same time.

"You guys are really distracting me. Stop bickering so much." Shaylar raised an eyebrow at her brother. It wasn't really like him to get involved in other people's arguements. He was usually the type to keep to himself.

"Wow Abbadon, I didn't expect you too-"

"If you're going to argue do it in camp where I don't risk running this cart into a ditch."

"...Oh there's the Abbadon I expected." Indeed the surprise had not lasted that long, but that was just the way Abbadon operated, and it was something the group would need to get used to fairly quickly. Leliana decided it was a good of a time as any to beg a question.

"So, I was never told exactly where we were headed." Leliana mentioned, Abbadon now turning his attention back to the road indefinitely. Alistair turned a bit so he could be in on the conversation as well.

"Abbadon has us headed for Redcliffe. We'll have to stop for the night but if we-" There was a shout that inturrupted him, and all of a sudden everyone was on guard.

"Somebody help us!" The voice was gruff, and the group quickly drew their weapons, Sten drawing a dagger (Which Alistair had been all so thrilled) that the twins had given him for protection, until they could find him a better weapon. But he seemed uncomfortable using it. It wasn't the right weapon for him, and though they could tell they didn't have much choice in the matter. It was the only weapon they had that was a spare. Shaylar cursed the thought she had before Ostagar, of leaving her old longsword in the barracks.

Abbadon slowed the cart to a stop as Roland hopped out from the back, sword and shield drawn. Without much hesitation, Shaylar took off first, followed by Alistair and Abbadon, and eventually the rest of the group. She could sense them from the moment they entered the general area, but the stench of the Darkspawn, their grueling screeches drew closer, and soon enough, two lumps that looked like dwarves appeared in their field of view, along with a small mix of Genlocks and Hurlocks. The dwarves were cowering, and one of the two carts they possessed was ripped to shreds, forgotten on the floor.

As a Genlock ran for the bearded dwarf, it was intercepted by one of Shaylar's arrows piercing its skull. It fell with a loud thud, and the dwarf seemed to spare a moment to look up before ducking his head in fear as the rest of the monsters charged, intercepted by the quick actions of Shaylar's companions. Abbadon and Alistair hacked at any Hurlock who came too close, though Alistair seemed a bit more experienced in the matter. They had been spattered in blood, but the dwarves were still safe when the last genlock fell down.

"You and your friends...you're mighty formidable folk, aren't you? Thank you for saving me and my boy here." the dwarf's mixed look of fear and awe was replaced by a friendly smile as Abbadon moved to stand in front of him beside Shaylar. He could feel the blood trickling down his cheek, but ignored it.

"You're welcome. Are you...a merchant, perhaps?"

"Sure am! The name is Bodahn, and this is m'boy Sandal. Say hello Sandal." The boy beside him looked a bit...dense, if there was a way of wording it nicely. But his smile was large and genuine.

"Hello...!" Even his response time was a bit off, but they nodded at him politely, none the less.

"I don't suppose you'd mind if we tagged along with you for a little bit, get where we're going?" Abbadon sighed.

"Sorry but...I don't think that you want to be seen traveling with...Grey Wardens." Bodahn looked him up and down, seeming to consider it for just a moment before he nodded.

"Alright then, I suppose your path might have a bit too much excitement for us, but hopefully we'll see you again. I'll pay you back properly when we do." Abbadon didn't have the heart to tell him he had only helped because he didn't want the darkspawn blocking a clear passage. But he would keep that to himself.

* * *

Bodahn Feddic was certainly a man of promises he intended to keep. Because he had ended up trailing them anyway, and as they stopped for the night, a good way away from Lothering and the wilds that were considered a part of it, he offered to become their...personal merchant. But it was because of him that they were able to get Sten a proper sword, one which he still seemed to dislike, but he was doing better than he did with the dagger.

"No, that's still not right. You're not putting enough swing into it." Roland watched as Shaylar nicked the side of a tree with his sword that he had given her to practice with.

"I'll give you enough swing..." She mumbled in annoyance as he gently brought her arm into a better position.

"As tempting as that might be..." He began, causing her to blush slightly. "Try bringing it down with a little more force." Shaylar had asked him to try and teach him more about swords. She thought she had known about them when she lived in the castle, but now she had a need, to learn about something that she had apparently never been good at, unlike she thought. Archery was one thing. It seemed to come more naturally to her. But out in the field of battle, the sword wasn't exactly a friend, like she had hoped. She sighed softly, allowing him to position her correctly, although she didn't seemed to notice their close proximity however.

* * *

But someone in camp did. Alistair sat close to the fire while Leliana prepared dinner, giving Morrigan both a break and an excuse to find her way all the way across camp. He would attempt to look like he was minding his own business, though he'd occasionally glance at the lesson, and at all the wrong times.

"Alistair, you know you look sort of like a lost puppy." Alistair snapped his attention back to Leliana.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about, I'm afraid." He stated calmly, though his attention still seemed shifted after another moment.

"He's merely teaching her how to use a sword."

"I could have done that."

"Then you should have insisted." Leliana said with a slight giggle. He was oddly cute when he was jealous, despite being a full grown man.

"Jealousy never befit anyone, Alistair." She mentioned as she stirred the meal within the pot. Alistair crossed his arms.

"Who said I was jealous?"

"It's written all over your face." she answered, voice still calm though it carried a hint of amusement that bothered Alistair. What did she know anyway. He leaned back slightly, feeling the log roll a bit under him. He thought about it.

"Alright. Leliana, you're a...female, right?" Leliana nearly dropped the ladle she was using in mock surprise.

"No! I wasn't aware, when did that happen?" She questioned, clearly sarcastic and forcing Alistair to stare at her flatly.

"I...that isn't what I meant! Your _are_ a female, so I need your advice." Leliana smiled, briefly looking to Roland and Shaylar, who were currently bickering back and forth playfully about how awful her swordsmanship was, it seemed.

"Alright, shoot."

"Say...hypothetically...very, very hypothetically, I was jealous. She's known him so much longer than me. What would I do about it?" He asked, making Leliana think for a moment.

"Alistair, I don't really think love is fully based on how long you've known someone. You can just as easily misjudge a stranger as you can someone you've known your whole life, when you start to see them for who they really are." Her voice was a little uneasy, Alistair noticed, but it went away quickly.

"So the question wouldn't be which one of you she has known longer. It would be which one can root themselves the deepest into her heart...you know, hypothetically. I'd say just be yourself...maybe a little less awkward..."

"Like asking women if they're female?"

"...then again that is a dear quality. It makes you stand out."

"So you're telling me to be awkward, after telling me not to be awkward?"

"Don't be awkward, be yourself."

"But I _am_ awkward. You know what, forget I asked. This was all...hypothetical anyway. He said, getting up to go tend to the dog. He turned back to her, pointing with purpose. "Hypothetical-Whoa!" He cried out as he tripped over one of the logs on the other side of the fire. Leliana stared at him wide eyed for a moment before smiling and going back to tending to dinner.

"Hypothetically."

* * *

"And so you'd place it in like this?" Abbadon questioned as he held the elf root carefully over the poultice he was creating under Morrigan's watchful golden gaze. She pushed his hand slightly.

"Do it from that angle. you don't want to crumble too many leaves into it all at once. It works for the lesser type, but this one requires a bit more delicacy." She explained, Abbadon nodding in understanding. Since he had learned Morrigan was a healer, it was a lot easier for him to continue learning about herbalism even when he wasn't under Andrea's guidance. Morrigan had been reluctant when he first asked, but agreed when he said it would take pressure off of her having to make the medicine all the time if he learned how to do it as well. As he continued to fix the poultice, he glanced at Morrigan. She smelled so...similar for some reason. He had smelled it for a brief moment in another instance...but he couldn't pinpoint where.

"I hope you're having a care to where you're glancing." Abbadon snapped out of it, shaking his head as he looked back into the cup that contained his poultice.

"Sorry. I wasn't looking there, I can swear that much."

"Oh? So what were you looking at."

"Actually, I was thinking. You lived in the wilds with your mother all your life, haven't you?" Morrigan looked thoughtful for a moment.

"T'is correct." She answered. "Just Flemeth and I."

"Then being around all these people must be strange isn't it?"

"About as strange as it is for Sten." Abbadon glanced to the shadowy area of camp, where Sten was sitting on his own before looking into his bowl ago.

"The guy has had a rough time, we just need to give him some space. Plus you don't seem to be doing that badly." He offered, to which she shrugged.

"I suppose I have just resigned myself to my fate, considering mother did not give me a choice in the matter." Abbadon chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment.

"But now that you're here, there is nothing to stop you from leaving."

"That is what you want me to do?" She asked suddenly, a strange amount of offense in her voice. He raised an eyebrow, but shook his head.

"No. I'm just wondering why you haven't taken it upon yourself to do so. Maybe I worded it incorrectly." He offered another apology, but she shrugged it off.

"I have nowhere to go if I leave." She mentioned.

"Ah I see. Well regardless, it's nice to have you with us."

"Truly? I am thrilled." She sounded sarcastic, but maybe Abbadon was wrong. Maybe Morrigan actually liked being with them. As he spotted Alistair trip over a log across camp, he thought at least there was never a dull moment.

* * *

"Hold still Alistair!" Shaylar insisted as she pressed a compress to the small wound that Alistair had invented on his head. He hissed in a bit of pain as she did so.

"But it hurts..." he whined, to which Shaylar chuckled. He pouted slightly at her, and she smiled back at him, continuing to dab at the wound.

"Then maybe you need to watch where you're going."

"I was."

"That sure explains how you missed a whole log." she commented. "Besides, you've had your arm crushed by a Hurlock and you didn't complain then."

"Adrenaline." He answered as she placed a bandage on the wound. She giggled a bit, pulling back when she noticed their proximity.

"Alistair, it couldn't have hurt that much."

"You denying my pain is hurting my heart." He joked, to which she chuckled again as she put the supplies back.

"Just stay seated for a while, I don't want you falling again." She ordered as she placed the pack back into the cart. When she had seen him fall, she paused in her lesson with Roland, who didn't seem very impressed with the ex-templar, but he agreed that they could pick it up later. It was hard to read Roland at times, but it was after a short conversation that he went to join Leliana by the fire.

When she walked back over to him, she dropped down next to him on the sleeping bag. They had tents, but this had been set up for anyone who may have wanted a quick nap. When they got close enough to Redcliffe, they'd set up a longer term camp, so they wouldn't have to travel and take their cart with them wherever they went and all over the town. And they'd leave some of their group at camp, in order to ensure that their things were safe.

Abbadon had chosen Shaylar, Alistair, and Morrigan to come along into Redcliffe, which placed Lelianna, Sten, and Roland, who he trusted above all back at camp. Though Roland was a little wary being left with a murderer and a sister that seemed more than capable with a Daggar, he agreed at Abbadon's assurance that things would be fine, and he was going to look after the camp. They weren't too sure if they'd be bringing the dog or if he would be staying at camp, but Abbadon had mentioned they'd figure it out later. Shaylar let out a sigh before looking up at the sky.

"Just look at all those stars..." she mentioned, staring up at the glimmering mess in the sky. Alistair grinned a bit lopsidedly.

"Yeah, Redcliffe doesn't use as many lights as most places so you can see them just as clearly from town." Shaylar bit her lip.

"So...Abbadon told me you were a bastard then?" She was nervous that Alistair might snap at her, but relieved to find that he didn't.

"...I really should have told him that I was raised by dogs. But yes, I was. Arl Eamon took good care of me, at least until the day he got married." He took a deep breath, a slight sadness draining into his voice, and Shaylar leaned against his muscular frame instinctively almost, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I know you didn't like the Chantry much at all. But I'm glad that Duncan was able to get you out. He saved me, too." She mentioned, her speaking so fondly of his dear friend warming his heart a little bit. He gave her a nod, looking up at the sky himself.

"I missed the skies out here too. Denerim has too many lights."

"So did Highever. At least at the castle." Alistair was relaxed this way, content to watch the stars. He looked down at her, letting the silence take over for a moment before he spoke,

"So...I thought of a new way to try and scare Morrigan. Want to hear it?"

"Alistair...you're impossible." Shaylar answered with a laugh.

"And raised by dogs!"


	12. Redcliffe and the Royal Bastard

**Chapter 11: Redcliffe and the Royal Bastard**

* * *

They had traveled another full day and this time had set up camp close enough to Redcliffe. The group could easily reach Redcliffe by about mid morning as long as they set off early enough. Dinner had been filling, since Roland and Alistair took Bryn hunting and had come back with a nicely sized doe, they'd be well fed, which was good since they had no idea what they'd come across in Redcliffe, considering Lothering had been just as eventful. Morrigan and Sten were up on night guard while the others slept, and he and the apostate talked, although not much, about what was to come.

"I just find it absurd that all three of them go at once." Morrigan answered when Sten had asked why the Wardens were going together, walking right into a potentially dangerous situation and not leaving at least one of them at camp in case something happened to the others.

"The Wardens seem...brave, if not foolish." Sten responded thoughtfully as he looked into the receding fire.

"They're pretty foolish." She commented, looking at the tents. Maybe they were foolish, but they seemed to know just what it took to get a job done, at the very least. And Morrigan took solace in knowing that she'd be around. Flemeth had sent her with the Wardens in order to assist in ending the Blight, and though she questioned harshly her mother's real motive for sending her away, she would do just that. She had no desire to die because of the Darkspawn.

"Tell me, creature," She started, looking back at Sten. "Do you really see this as atonement for the things you have done?" Sten's expression didn't change as he stared at the fire, but he seemed to have heard her.

"I am unsure." He said finally. "But even if I do not, it's a way to survive." He added, to which Morrigan shrugged. He was correct, and the only way to do that, was by making sure that the Wardens lived. She heard shuffling in one of the tents, followed by another shuffle in one of the others, but she didn't look back to see who it was.

* * *

 _It was dark and her body felt of fire. She could feel the taint searing against her bones, and though she thrashed, she couldn't move. She couldn't open her eyes. Shaylar could see her mother and father, Fergus. But they were not who they once were. Instead of the smiling, cheerful faces, they were a hideous mess, gnawing teeth and terrible fangs, dark, souless eyes. But she couldn't open her own eyes. She could hear a terrible roaring, and it wouldn't stop. It was commanding...so commanding._

* * *

He had only pushed up her tent flap a bit, to see if she was alright. She was thrashing, and Alistair kept his eyes on her. She was trying so desperately to open her eyes, but it didn't seem like she could. He reached out carefully, noticing out of the corner of his eye her faithful Mabari watching him, ears perked in curiosity. He wiped a film of tears that had gathered at the edges of her eyes, but she remained asleep.

Finally, the thrashing came to a stop, and slowly, Shaylar's eyes opened. Bryn chuffed carefully, crawling a little closer to rest his head in the lap of her nightgown. She seemed out of it for a moment, so he didn't speak. He finally did when she placed her hand on Bryn's head, scratching gently behind his ear.

"I'm sorry, I know it's unpleasant." She nearly jumped at his voice, searching wildly for the source but relaxing as she saw Alistair kneeling at the entrance of her tent. Her heart rate slowed just a bit, and finally she opened her mouth.

"Did you dream too? It was so real...I could feel everything." She asked, looking at him evenly now. He noticed the tint of fear in her blue eyes, and reached out to wipe the tears from her eyes. He shook his head.

"Not tonight, but I know what they're like. It feels like you're never going to wake up, doesn't it? It's the Archdemon. It 'talks' to the horde, and in turn talks to us as well." He asked, and she found herself scooting over enough for him to sit on her bedroll.

"It is...I don't always see my family in them...but today.." Alistair nodded silently. They were all plagued by these nightmares, a pain that all Grey Wardens shared. He bit his lip in thought for a moment, looking down at the ground.

"Is there anything else we go through? I deserve to know right? As Wardens...we all deserve to know, don't we?" Alistair hesitated, but finally nodded.

"Well...I once asked Duncan the same question you know? All he said was, "You'll see." It was pretty ominous really, but I learned later through other, older Wardens." Shaylar raised an eyebrow, still petting Bryn's head lightly.

"Just try that line on me." she challenged, to which he smiled slightly.

"Oh I have other lines for you. Trust me." She giggled but then seemed to turn serious again, expectant to get an actually answer. Alistair thought about it, resting his chin on his knees. The cloth of his shirt felt better than the armor he usually wore, and it was nice to take a break from it sometimes, especially when one was trying to sleep.

"Well...we have these types of dreams the rest of our lives, at least until our time comes." Shaylar looked at him curiously.

"Yes...eventually these dreams overtake all of our thoughts, and the call becomes too strong. The taint drives us mad. That's why when it comes time, we go to Orzammar, to the deep roads." Shaylar nodded thoughtfully.

"But why Orzammar?" She asked.

"It's where the Darkspawn live, further on in the Deep Roads. Eventually, we go out fighting. It's the life of every Warden. You...probably wondered why we didn't tell you about that." She thought about it for a moment, nodding slowly.

"Yes, that did sort of have me curious." She answered. "But I guess I could understand that it isn't exactly an appealing slogan." She mentioned with a slight smile.

"I suppose not." He laughed, stopping after a moment as another thought seemed to cross his mind.

"Duncan...told me he was having those dreams again. That it was almost time, he felt, for him to go to Orzammar too. I guess he got what he wanted after all..." Shaylar gently placed a hand on his arm, and he focused himself on her.

"He'll be missed, Alistair. We need to focus on the task ahead..." After a moment she frowned. "Ugh that sounds exactly like something Abbadon would say." He smiled. Indeed she and her brother were alike in many ways, but each had their own separate charms in the same respect.

"Well, it's almost time to get up anyway. Do you know Morrigan stayed up on night watch _knowing_ she's supposed to come with us, isn't that absurd." She chuckled, her voice still quiet.

"Maybe she doesn't need as much sleep as we do. Either way, I'm sure Abbadon will be up soon so why don't we look for something for breakfast?" After all, after that dream, she was fairly sure she'd be unable to get back to sleep now.

* * *

"Remember that time Father visited the Alienage with us?"

"Yes. You and Fergus decided it would be funny to teach me all the wrong Elvish phrases." Her voice was not one of amusement as Shaylar, Abbadon, Morrigan, Bryn, and Alistair ventured the rest of the way to Redcliffe. They still had a bit of a walk to get there but Alistair assured them they'd be there soon.

"What was it we had you say?" Shaylar rolled her eyes.

"I believe I insulted their leader's mother. I remember asking mother why you and Fergus had to exist." Morrigan seemed only partially amused by the story, but Alistair was snickering, not even stalled by the glare Shaylar sent his way.

"So, you aren't so interested in visiting the Alienage anytime soon then?" Morrigan asked, Shaylar turning her gaze on her.

"Not particularly thrilled will I be if we end up there, I'm afraid." She answered with a shake of her head, slapping Abbadon on the shoulder for he was still smirking at her.

"You were so gullible." And as far as he was concerned, she still was. Though, soon his gaze shifted to Alistair. Something had seemed a little...off about him this morning, and he had confirmed it with himself that something was probably wrong when his laughing suddenly stopped, and he cast his gaze to the floor, as if deep in thought. He slowed to a stop, causing the others in the group to do so as well.

"Morrigan, can you scout out ahead for a moment?" He asked. "I feel like I'm sensing some Darkspawn farther ahead, but I want to be sure that I'm not imagining things." Morrigan raised an eyebrow.

"Why would you send me?"

"Because you're a lot stealthier than the three of us. Just don't engage them if you see them, and come back as quickly as you can." Morrigan didn't seem convinced, but all the same began walking ahead of the rest of the group.

"Alright Alistair," Abbadon started when Morrigan was far enough away. "Tell us what's going on? One minute you look happy, then the next you look like a Korcari Rat that's just been drowned." He said. Shaylar hadn't seemed to notice the swing in Alistair's expressions as much as Abbadon had, because she seemed confused as she looked between them.

"It's nothing I-" But Alistair seemed to think better of it, sighing loudly instead. "I thought it was weird you were suddenly sensing Darkspawn when I wasn't. Alright, I have something to tell you and I hoped it could wait a little longer, but I guess it can't." Abbadon and Shaylar stood silent, side by side as they waited for him to continue.

"You both know I was born to a servant girl at the palace...but I do know who my father was. He was...er...King Maric." Abbadon looked surprised for a moment, but the look stayed on Shaylar's face for a longer time. Abbadon cleared his throat.

"So you aren't just a bastard..."

"...But a Royal Bastard?" Shaylar finished for her brother, to which Alistair let out a laugh.

"I should definitely use that one more often. But look...I wanted to tell the two of you earlier, it just never seemed like the right time. When I should have told Shaylar after Ostagar, I didn't. I guess I just...liked it better that neither of you knew." Abbadon crossed his arms, deep in thought for a few moments.

"But didn't you think it was important that we knew? Why were you so nervous about telling us?" He asked, to which Alistair seemed to fish for an answer.

"I...people treat me differently when they find out, even Duncan was the only grey Warden who knew. I become the Bastard Prince to people and they either Coddle me or resent me for it. Duncan likely kept me from the fighting because of it."

"And?" Shaylar urged.

"I guess I just liked it better knowing that you liked me for who I was.."

"And not for your status?" Her tone became a bit snappy, and Abbadon knew better than to try and soothe her.

"I never said that I was anything above a commoner, they made that quite clear. I was a threat to Cailan's rule so they kept me quiet." Shaylar didn't seem satisfied though.

"And what? We'd only want you around because you were a Theirin? Get real Alistair!" Alistair seemed a bit crestfallen when she pushed her way past him, Bryn hot on her heels, but he didn't make a move to stop her, only watched after her as she went. It was then he felt Abbadon's hand touch his shoulder.

"Just give her some time. It's quite a bit of information to take in, and I think she's more angry about...other things?"

"What...other things?" Alistair asked, oblivious to what he had said.

"I should let her tell her herself. Give her a chance to calm down." Alistair frowned again as he watched her meet with Morrigan, who had come back to tell them no such Darkspawn in the first place. She gave Abbadon a knowing look, and he shrugged. They'd share the information with the others later, so long as Alistair wished it.

* * *

"You never did explain to me why she seems so angry with him." Morrigan stated to Abbadon as they walked towards the bridge that would lead them to the final path to Redcliffe. Abbadon let his eyes shift to Shaylar, who was stalking ahead of them with Bryn, then to Alistair who was a ways behind them.

"It's a long story I need to speak of later. Our main concern is to see Arl Eamon right now." He explained. Morrigan didn't seem satisfied with the answer, but she let the topic go as she realized Shaylar had stopped to talk to some man on the bridge ahead. Why was she wasting her time talking to the simple village peasants?

"Yes M'lady..." Abbadon heard the man say as they got closer, Alistair stopping at his side as his interest shifted to what this man had to say. "We're under attack every night...it is truly horrible...so many have fought, and so many have died. We don't know what to do anymore. and if this news hasn't even gotten to travel from Redcliffe yet..." He murmured. Alistair seemed to grow more concerned.

"What is attacking you?" The man looked over at Alistair, a desolate look in his eyes.

"That's just it, no one knows...but they come from the castle." Abbadon took over then, looking over the Bridge's edge, and down upon the town of Redcliffe. It indeed did look battered, from where he stood. Fighting had definitely gone on down there.

"Bann Teagan keeps telling us we'll fend them off each night...but they come back in larger numbers each night..." He murmured in concern. Abbadon frowned.

"Bann Teagan? He's here?" Alistair asked. The man nodded.

"Yes he's come to help since the Arl has been ill."

"Then take us to him, if you would." Shaylar finished, Abbadon nodding. Morrigan said nothing, but her tell-tale scowl remained. She wasn't really a person who liked helping others, so the group had come to realize since they had taken her along. But she didn't say anything for or against it as the man took them over the bridge to see Bann Teagan.

"Ah Tomas, was it?" An older man turned around upon hearing the Chantry doors swing open. He watched the group as they walked just behind the man he had called Thomas, the twins taking up the front.

"Yes, Bann Teagan...this group of travelers said they'd be willing to help us." Abbadon thought about it. He really wasn't sure what bringing up the words 'Grey Warden' wouldn't yield any ill feelings here. But Alistair seemed to take initiative.

"Bann Teagan...you may not remember me how I am but...perhaps a bit younger and covered in mud?" Or the mess of dirt from the stables, he wasn't honestly sure which.

"Covered in mu-Alistair! You're alive! That's grand news. I thought all the Grey Wardens were killed with the king." Abbadon cleared his throat.

"Not all of us, no." He answered quickly. Shaylar added with a bit of disgust.

"Though that's the story these days or so we hear." Teagan seemed confused for a moment.

"So all of you are Wardens?" Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"You may count everyone except myself and the Mongrel. And I mean the dog, not Alistair...for once." Alistair rolled his eyes at her as a response, but turned back to Teagan all the same. He was frowning as he seemed to think of something.

"I wish you had come during better Circumstances but..."

"We want to help. Tell us what to do." shaylar answered quickly, leaving Teagan looking confused.

"I said we'd help." She repeated when she caught his look. She turned to her companions briefly, though she only looked briefly at Alistair.

"Sure. We need to see the Arl, sick or not. But we can't do that if everyone's dead." Abbadon mentioned. Alistair only nodded slightly in response, and Morrigan crossed her arms.

"Sure. And what will we be doing next? Rescuing Kittens from trees, I suppose?" She asked, though she knew by now Shaylar was ignoring her.

"See? That's four-" Bryn barked argumentatively. "Five votes of confidence." Teagan still seemed confused, but finally smiled at her all the same.

"Then that's grand news. Why don't you go and find Murdock and Ser Perth, then? They'll tell you more about what to do. Murdock is our Mayor, he's got a really funny looking beard so, I doubt you'll miss him. I think Ser Perth is up by the Windmill."

* * *

They had split up in the afternoon hours, to better assist Murdock and Ser Perth before nightfall. Morrigan and Shaylar had gone to the Blacksmith Owen, who Murdock had told them locked himself up in the smithy and refused to help make weapons or repair broken armor. It had also been a struggle to get him to open the door (in fact, it had gotten so bad, Morrigan simply got tired of all the whining from behind the door and used a spell to melt the lock right off). It smelled like a brewery inside, and Owen wasn't too thrilled about his lock being magically picked.

But Shaylar had finally gotten him to calm down. He explained his daughter was missing. She was a servant at the castle and had not come home. He was unable to contact her and was worried about her, with the beasts wandering about the castle as it seemed, since it was where they came from. Again to Morrigan's dismay, Shaylar promised that they'd look for her daughter, that they'd bring her home. It wasn't a promise she was truly sure she would keep, whether it be her choice or not, but it seemed to for now be enough for the man, who promised to start making weapons again, in time for the nightfall.

Alistair and Abbadon had opted to help Ser Perth, who only asked for Morale and holy protection for the knights and militia. So first they had stopped off at the Tavern, where Alistair and Abbadon had coerced the bartender, Lloyd, into giving the soilders a break, allowing them some free Ale before the battle to ease their nerves, though they weren't too sure how far they were going to get with drunk soilders.

And then they had gone to the Chantry, in search of Items that Ser Perth was sure that Sister Hannah would possess. But she didn't. She told Abbadon and Alistair she refused to lie to the men when she didn't have the protection that they sought out. So they had gone back to Ser Perth and told him just that. He decided that they would need to rely on their own faith, and not their faith in the maker. Abbadon had assured him they'd try their best to help them beat back the forces that were attacking them.

And by the time that the group merged back together, nightfall was upon them. The four of them stood at the front lines with the Knights.

"Just be on your guard." Abbadon mentioned soothingly to his sister, who he noticed was holding her bow so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. She merely nodded quietly, looking to Morrigan who twirled her staff in a simple motion.

"T'will be easy so long as you keep your wits about you." She answered the silent question. She spared a look at Alistair, who glanced back at her. Even on the slightly bad terms she had left them on for the moment, he gave her a smile that relaxed her. Maybe she was overreacting to the whole thing. But it wasn't just him being a hidden prince. She didn't care about that much. It was what he had said after that. Bur not wanting to dwell on it long, she took her gaze off him, focusing on the green fog that seemed to be pouring from the entrance to Redcliffe. Shaylar pulled an arrow from her quiver and placed it into the waiting bow. There was almost no sound as they waited. Had it been like this every night? She truly began to feel her stomach flip for those that had been involved in all of this. It had to be horrifying. She let the arrow fly when she saw a figure shambling over the hill. It made a hideous noise before falling, which spurred the men into attack as more appeared and Shaylar pulled up another arrow, Morrigan's spells flying from her staff.

Abbadon felt his sword strike right through another body. They were cold, red eyes glowering, though it was almost as if they hadn't seen anything at all, not truly. Alistair was at his back, fending the creatures away. It was truly hard work, keeping these creatures at bay. He watched as one slid a knife across a knight's neck. He fell with barely a scream before Ser Perth thrusted his sword into the creature's back.

Shaylar could hardly tell who was who anymore. It was a mass of armor, people swinging swords, flinging daggers. But eventually, the creatures simply stopped coming through.

"Quickly, please! They've started attacking from the lake!" Someone called as he ran up the path. Abbadon and Alistair reappeared, covered in blood, Abbadon turning to Ser Perth.

"Knights, please stay here and guard the road. Take us." He commanded as Ser Perth nodded at him. The Militia man took them down further into Redcliffe, and Shaylar took notice that Abbadon was limping, though he said nothing about it. She silently spurred herself into the idea of getting keeping him safe. If she saw anything bad come near him, she'd strike it down.

They were flung right into the fight at the lake as it was already ongoing. Murdock was at the head of the militia group, shooting arrows yet quickly switching to his Dagger with a timed ferocity. Shaylar watched Abbadon and Alistair charge into the fray as she fired arrows at a quick pace, some which missed their target. The sun was so close to coming up...so close but so far. She shot at anything that came close to Abbadon. If she didn't hit the mark, the whirring sound of the arrow at least alerted her brother to the danger, and he turned his sword on whatever was approaching to remedy the situation.

A warning call from Morrigan and a terrible sound of rumbling chains caused her to turn, behind her three of the evil creatures. She wouldn't have time to draw another arrow before one stabbed her in the gut. When they raised their daggers she squeezed her eyes shut, but the impact never came. She heard the clattering of a sword and opened her eyes to see none other than Alistair standing in front of her. The creatures had been quickly downed.

"A-Alistair..." He coughed in response, staggering to the side. Her eyes widened and she dropped her own weapon. The final bits of the fighting went on around her, but she had Alistair cradled to her. His hand was covered in blood, his blood, fresh blood from where one of the creatures had stabbed him. It was close to what she thought may be an important artery in his neck.

"Shaylar what happened?!" Abbadon demanded when the fighting had concluded. Shaylar hadn't even felt the sticky tears that ebbed down her cheeks at the moment.

"H-He protected me and..." She placed her hand over Alistair's chest, his labored breathing only proving to worry her further. "H-He won't stop bleeding..." It was Morrigan who kelt down beside her, wordlessly placing a hand over Alistair's wound. Abbadon allowed her the space, stepping back to speak with Murdock, who had walked away although pretty banged up.

"Morrigan...you can heal?" She asked, blinking in surprise. The wound was magically mending itself.

"I know but a bit of healing. How the moron managed to get a wound this close to his artery, I don't know, but it only seemed to get it a bit. He will be fine if he rests the rest of the night." She claimed, taking her hand away and stood back up.

"Morrigan...thank you." She looked back at her momentarily, but the apostate said nothing more as she opted to join Abbadon.

* * *

Alistair could feel something warm enveloping one of his hands. It wasn't until he willed his eyes to open that he realized Shaylar was holding his hand. He wasn't in as much pain as he had been before. He offered her a flippant smile, but it was only returned by her action of pulling his hand with hers, pressing her forehead to it.

"You have to be more careful, please. You scared me." She murmured, to which he frowned.

"I'm sorry. I already had so many wounds...I guess that one just did me in. But I couldn't let you get attacked like that." He said, carefully sitting up though he didn't reclaim her hand from her.

"We're still here so I'll take it we won?" She nodded.

"Yes. Bann Teagan announced the victory this morning. Abbadon said he wanted to meet with us, once you were well enough." He nodded. He did feel a lot better, and it seemed like the wound he had taken to the crook of his neck was but a scar now. He felt the bed shift, readjusting as Shaylar added her weight. Before he could say anything, she buried her face into the crook of his neck, taking in the sweet natural smell he carried. Sandalwood. That was what it smelled like.

"Alistair...about before, your secret..." Alistair's frown returned, his face red as well.

"Oh right...that. Can we pretend I never said that?" He questioned, feeling her soft hum vibrate against his skin.

"No..but I don't care if you're a prince or a stable boy. I wanted you to know it doesn't matter to me." She lifted her head and gently kissed his cheek. "You...give me feelings that I'm not really sure what to do with, and they scare me."

"Scare you?" Alistair parroted, clearly confused.

"Yes I...need some time to sort them out. But please...just bare with me for a while, until I figure them out. But no matter what...just remember that I care about you because you're Alistair, not just some bastard prince." They were words he decided he had wanted to hear from the start, and she could feel his arms wrap around the small of her back. Things were going to be fine, bastard prince or not.


	13. Connor's Castle

**Chapter 12: Connor's Castle**

* * *

Abbadon knew that there was more danger awaiting Redcliffe if they didn't act fast. But he couldn't bring himself to destroy the temporary barrier of peace that had been bestowed upon the town. Though they mourned the dead, they were celebrating the fact that this had been their biggest victory yet. They didn't seem concerned that they were going to be struck again, and maybe they were right. Maybe, whatever was in that castle was going to wait for those who thwarted their plans to come to them. He wasn't sure, but as he sat beside Morrigan, who altogether seemed rather disinterested in the whole process of celebrating, he found that he couldn't get himself to eat any of the feast spread out in front of them. He knew he probably should have. Bann Teagan was expected them to meet him as soon as possible. But Murdock had insisted they stay and enjoy the festivities for a while.

"T'is a bit early to be celebrating, is it not?" Morrigan asked him finally, fiddling idly with her weapon. She was antsy, eager to leave, he knew. Morrigan didn't seem like the type who liked to be caught up in celebratory rabble. Even in Lothering, she had been a pain to get to come to the Tavern with them. She hadn't been forced this time, rather she had no choice since the group had to stick together since they were considered the heroes of the hour.

"Maybe." He responded. "But we shouldn't work them up. Maybe if whoever...whatever is doing this, sees they aren't expecting it to attack, it'll leave them alone, get bored. Maybe they enjoy the fear more than the actual violence." Morrigan didn't seem impressed.

"And if they do attack?"

"I'm hoping we'll be able to get up to Redcliffe Castle before that happens." Morrigan huffed slightly, letting out a puff of cold air into the brisk morning.

"We will never get moving if they don't." She commented, motioning to Shaylar and Alistair who were standing at the large feast table, Bryn bounding around her feet as she occasionally tossed him some scraps.

"Ugh, this stuff is disgusting..." Shaylar mumbled to Alistair as she took a sip of the Ale. It had to be Dwarven. The Dwarves weren't exactly known for their skill in making Ale. But when you live underground, she supposed that the stagnant air didn't actually assist in ale making. "Here, try it." She said, shoving the tankard lightly at Alistair, who raised an eyebrow.

"You just said it was disgusting-"

"It is."

"So why would I want to try it?" He questioned. She grinned at him in response.

"I don't know, I don't want to be the only one to have experienced this horrible ale." She gave him a prolonged, pleading look, and he stared back at her, trying to come out the stronger one. But the longer he looked at her, that harder that became.

 _'Why couldn't she be a man?'_ He though disdainfully to himself as he took a sip of the ale, nearly choking on it as it slid down his throat.

"Sweet _Maker_ , Shaylar. Why would you make me try that?" He coughed a bit, setting down the tankard altogether as his companion burst into laughter.

"I didn't think you would do it." She said honestly, smiling sweetly at him. He was pretty sure he'd never truly understand women. And maybe that was for the better.

* * *

"He said he'd be at the Windmill." Abbadon mentioned to Alistair as they headed up towards the Windmill itself. It was a bit of a hike from the town, but nothing they couldn't make. Bryn bounded happily just ahead of the group, stumpy tail wagging. The creature really did like to be out and about, even in the face of danger and Darkspawn. It was almost as if their father had foreseen this years ago and gotten them the perfect dog for the occasion. _If only_ he had seen Howe's treachery in advance, he wondered if things would be different than they were now. Probably, he decided. They would have never met Alistair, or Morrigan, Leliana, Sten, not one of them. He would give almost anything to have his parents back, but sometimes, he knew that he much preferred a life of traveling, like the one they had begun, despite the circumstances. He never felt comfortable sitting in one place all his life. And no matter how ragtag or mismatched their group seemed, he felt in time that they'd have each other's backs even without the obligations the group members like Morrigan and Sten carried. He just hoped it was the correct feeling.

"Look, there he is." Shaylar said as they reached the top of the hill, pointing Teagan out from a ways away. He was there indeed, staring out at the waterway that framed the entirety of Redcliffe with a troubled gaze. Abbadon led the group over.

"Teagan, we're here." He said with a quick clear of his throat. Teagan looked back to them, a grateful flash within his blue eyes. He looked them all over.

"I can't thank you enough for helping to rescue the villagers. Alistair, are you feeling better?" He asked, addressing the blonde warden, who gave him a nod.

"I'm fine Teagan, thank you." Though the scar on his neck would remain, it was just another story written into his body. He smiled kindly, and Teagan focused his gaze back out over the water, to the castle that lay in a mist ahead.

"It's almost like there's no one there..." he mumbled quietly. "No one will respond, no matter what we do." He explained. Abbadon felt as though he knew what the Bann was going to ask, and it was something they had been anticipating they would have to do from the start. The source of the problem rested _within_ the castle itself, and whatever waited up there, they would need to get to.

He was about to say something, but as he turned to address them, his eyes widened, the group swinging around when they noticed he was looking past them. Flying down the hill was a noble woman, though her dress was battered and dirty, followed by a knight, presumably one of the Arl's. Shaylar took note of Alistair stiffening beside her, and gently placed a hand on his arm.

"Maker...Isolde?" Teagan's voice was a whisper as she slowed to a stop in front of him.

"Oh Teagan...oh thank goodness you are alive. I...I do not have much time, I need to return to the castle...and you must return with me." Teagan seemed confused, holding his hands out to steady Isolde.

"Isolde, what happened?" He asked, looking down at her. Her eyes were awash with tears.

"I have no time to explain...but Teagan...there is a great evil within the castle. And I fear the worst if we can't make it go away..." she mumbled to him. Abbadon cleared his throat.

"Bann Teagan. This could be a trap." He spoke, and Isolde whipped her head around.

"Who are you to be saying such things?!-" She was cut off by Shaylar.

"Calm down lady, we want to-" Alistair finished.

"I...suppose that you remember me, Lady Isolde?" The look in her eyes was not a kind one as her gaze found Alistair's, and Shaylar flinched, not liking the tone in her voice as she spoke to him. It was almost one of disgust.

"Alistair...what are _you_ doing here?" She spoke evenly, Shaylar stepped in front of him, prepared to say something in his defense, when Alistair himself silenced her, indicating it was alright. It wasn't anything he wasn't used to, coming from her.

"Isolde, wait just a moment while I speak to them. I will return with you to the castle." Isolde's mood brightened, if only a bit, she turned briefly to the group.

"I am sorry I cannot stay to exchange pleasantries. I must go." Without another word, she and her guard headed back towards the bridge.

"Ungrateful wench." Morrigan spat lowly as Teagan turned back to them.

"I must go with her." Abbadon nodded. He knew whatever was going on, it left Teagan with little choice. He needed to head up to the castle. Isolde seemed insistent that he could help with the problem. The Bann walked up to Abbadon, placing something into his hands. Abbadon could feel the cool metal of the key as he opened his palm, looking down at it with a bewildered expression.

"There is a passageway that leads to the castle that you can access through the Windmill. My family are the only ones who can use it, but it is your only way in right now. Please-" Abbadon placed his hand on the Bann's shoulder.

"We understand. We were ready to enter the castle from the start." Teagan couldn't have seemed more grateful as he did them.

"If you'd like to ask Ser Perth for his assistance before you enter, he can position his forces outside the gate. There aren't many knights, but if you can open the gate for him when you get there, he'll fight for you." He gave them one last look before running after Isolde. Abbadon watched them go for a moment before turning.

"Are you all willing to help? I want you to tell me now if you want to return to camp." he mentioned, gaze lingering on Alistair.

"While Lady Isolde and I aren't exactly...fans of each other...I owe it to the Arl to help save his castle." Morrigan shrugged.

"As you feel obligated to help them, I must stand by you all regardless of how I feel about it." She said, crossing her arms. And finally, he looked at his sister, who smiled at him.

"You're crazy if you think you're leaving me behind." Abbadon gave them a grateful look.

"Let's go then."

* * *

"You know, I locked myself in a cage for an entire day once as a child." Alistair breathed as he made his way down the ladder.

"It sounds quite befitting of something you would do."

"Shut up Morrigan." They had indeed stopped to speak with Ser Perth before entering the basement that Teagan had spoken of through the windmill. He had agreed he would be ready when they called upon him, and that was good enough for them as they descended into the dark cellar. Shaylar pushed a bit closer to her brother, the dark stone walls sending shivers up her spine as various things skittered along the floor and the walls. Abbadon momentarily placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before releasing her altogether.

"Just be careful...I don't know how much darker this place is going to get." Bryn had stayed behind, Shaylar having ordered him to wait alongside Ser Perth, the dog had responded dutifully, bounding after the unfamiliar human. He'd be reunited with them upon successful infiltration of the castle. As he opened the door, they could hear screaming, but it was dark. Morrigan lit a fire spell, casting it in the direction of the screaming. The rattling of chains and shambling across the floor was enough for them to tell that they were fighting exactly what had been in the village. Morrigan continued to purposely light fire spells so they could see as they fought, and when the last of the rotting creatures went down, Shaylar eventually found an unlit torch along the wall, which Morrigan lit as quickly as possible.

"Hello, is anyone there?" Shaylar turned the torch towards the wall. There within the cell seemed to be a mage. His raven colored hair framed his face, eyes tired. His robes were tattered, and he looked out of it.

"...What are you doing all the way down here?" Shaylar questioned. It was the only cell in the entire area, from what she could see.

"Lady Isolde placed me here."

"Why?" Abbadon asked, stepping out to stand beside his sister.

"I...I poisoned the Arl. After that, all of these things started happening and I-Isolde thought I did it, so she brought me down here. She had me tortured, she-"

"You poisoned the Arl." Alistair's voice could be heard, clearly irritated by what they had just found out. "What did you expect, morning tea?" He asked, though with a look from Abbadon, he settled down. Shaylar calmly asked him another question.

"Why would you poison the arl? What is your name?" The mage took a deep breath.

"My name is...Jowan. I poisoned the Arl under the orders of Teryn Loghain." The name set her blood on fire. She could feel it, but she let Jowan continue, eager to continue to be the one to question him considering Alistair or Abbadon could become violent at any moment. "B-But he said he would help me redeem myself to the circle. I...have dabbled with Blood Magic in the past. Now...the Teryn's abandoned me too, hasn't he?" Of course Loghain would have taken advantage of someone's desperation. The need to do something to redeem oneself. She didn't like the fact that he had admitted he was a blood mage, but she wanted to know more.

"I don't like this Shaylar, if he's a blood mage, maybe you should step back." But Shaylar ignored Alistair's warning.

"Why were you brought here to begin with?" She asked.

"Lady Isolde brought me here, she wanted an Apostate to teach Connor...her son, to keep his abilities hidden."

"Abilities?"

"He started showing...signs. Lady Isolde feared that Arl Eamon would do what was right, even at the cost of their son, and send him to the circle if he found out. It infuriated her."

"Connor is a mage?" Alistair questioned in disbelief. "That...wasn't something I expected." Shaylar turned her attention from her companion back to Jowan.

"Jowan...did you? Cause all of this?" Jowan shook his head profusely.

"N-No! I promise it wasn't me! Though...all of this only happened after I poisoned the Arl...I want to make this up. I want to stop running away, and face what I've helped cause. Please." Morrigan looked skeptical.

"And what prevents you from running away anyway?"

"I'm so tired of running. You're an apostate too, aren't you? You must know what it's like." Morrigan looked away.

"Not to be a user of Blood Magic." Shaylar suddenly passed the torch to Abbadon, and scuffled off into the shadows. Abbadon was almost hesitant to shine the torch on her as he could hear the rattling of chains. But when she Reappeared with the chains in her arms, he didn't like where it was going.

"Alistair, break the lock off." She said, though Alistair didn't move.

"You want me to release a blood mage?" He asked, voice serious, which wasn't usual for the Warden.

"I'm not releasing him. Do you not see the chains?" She asked defensively.

"I'm not going to release him." Alistair argued, but they were interrupted when Abbadon's sword crashed harshly against the lock. He stared firmly at his sister.

"I trust you to know what you're doing. Don't prove me wrong." Shaylar didn't pay mind to Alistair's disapproving gaze as she swung the gate open.

"Sorry Jowan, precaution." She said as she wrapped the chains around his wrists tightly. Jowan looked down at them.

"Of course. Thank you...I won't fail. I'll find some way to help." Jowan promised as Shaylar stood up, taking the torch from Abbadon and placing it in between Jowan's palms.

"You can start by holding that."

* * *

The fight through the cellar had not been easy. They were covered in blood by the time they reached the upper floors. Shaylar could feel the blood drying on her cheeks. Jowan had not once tried to run, standing there, giving them enough light to fight. Eventually the torch hadn't been needed anymore. The light was beginning to get a lot better, easier to fight in. The blood of the Mabari Warhounds they had just fought through pooled at their feet. She never liked killing a Mabari, but she was happy that Bryn hadn't been there, that there had been no risk of hitting him among the other Mabari.

"Are you Owen's daughter?" Abbadon asked clearly as they lifted the bars of the cage she claimed she had locked herself in. She said it had been for her own protection, and they agreed she had been smart to do so.

"Y-You know my father?" She asked, the fear still standing out brightly in her eyes. Shaylar took her hands in hers, nodding in conformation.

"Valena, you need to get out of here, okay? It's important you get back to your father."

"B-But the monsters."

"We killed most of them on the way here." Abbadon added comfortingly. Valena finally agreed, and left them, allowing them to find their rest of the way through the castle cellar.

* * *

And when they opened the upper door, they were greeted by a court yard full of the undead. Alistair and Abbadon charged first, impaling the front line with their swords. Morrigan stood back, casting spells, and Shaylar took Jowan, making her way towards the gate. She hit the lever as fast as possible, and the gate lifted, Ser Perth charging in with his men and her faithful Mabari at his heels. She joined in, her arrows flying as she assisted various people with her arrows, striking one or so in the chest cavity, hindering others so her allies could finish the job easier.

"Come on!" Abbadon ordered, Shaylar chuckling when she felt her Mabari leap, placing his large paws on her torso.

"Good boy! You're such a good boy!" She cooed, then ordering him to follow behind Jowan as they swung the front doors to the castle open, charging in and not getting to far before they spotted Teagan, Isolde, and a young boy, clapping his hands merrily as Teagan danced for him. Though his merry look vanished as he saw the group coming up.

"Are these the guests you had been telling me about mother?" The boy's voice wasn't that of a young boy at all. Cold, calculating...it sent a shiver down Abbadon's back, quelled only by his sister leaning on him, the same amount of fear instilled into her. Morrigan's expression changed to one of displeasure, and Alistair reached for the sword he carried.

"Y-Yes...C-Connor..." Isolde murmured.

"You do know that I told you I did not want uninvited guests. You saw what happened to Uncle Teagan, did you not? Say hello, uncle Teagan."

"Hello Uncle Teagan!" Teagan responded. Though Connor, the boy, was quick to silence him.

"Now, tell me what you've come for. You wanted an audience, and now you have it." His calculating voice rang out, and Abbadon stepped forwards.

"We've come to help..." He answered, his voice bold and calm. Though Connor's look flashed to one of anger.

"There is nothing to help!" He hissed. "You spoiled my game, my chances to take back that village. Teagan!" Teagan stood up, as well as the guards around him. Abbadon's look sharpened. Teagan was possessed. The group backed into eachother.

"Bryn, protect Jowan!" She ordered, pointing to the mage, who Isolde briefly flashed a look of disdain as Connor ran away. The dog jumped in front of him all the same. And the fight began quicker than she could think.

"Let me take Teagan!" Alistair barked as he fended off another guard. The others complied, instead focusing their attention on the guards. Shaylar felt a pang in her heart. She didn't want to kill these men. They weren't of their right mind. But as they continued coming at them, she was forced to strike them down. She turned her head, Bryn nearly ripping an arm out of a man's socket as he had come at Jowan. He was doing what she ordered him to do. Finally, it had come to only Teagan, who Alistair had knocked the wind out of with the pommel of his sword.

"Ugh..." Teagan breathed, Isolde coming to his side.

"Oh Teagan...are you alright?" She questioned.

"Yes...I think my mind is my own, now." He answered, still holding his abdomen. The group re-gathered, Isolde letting out a shaky breath.

"I...I don't imagine I could have forgiven myself if you had died because of me." She then turned to the group.

"P-Please...Wardens...don't harm Connor...this is not his fault." Shaylar turned to look at Jowan.

"We've brought Jowan...I thought...maybe he could be of some help." She said, Isolde's eyes angrily shifting to Jowan.

"Jowan...look at what you have done."

"But I didn't summon these corpses, Lady Isolde, please understand, I could not had I wanted too...but this did start because I poisoned the Arl. The only option I could offer...is sending someone to the fade, to confront the demon directly." Abbadon looked thoughtful.

"How would that work?"

"It would...save Connor?" Isolde asked in a small voice. Jowan nodded.

"I could send someone into the fade, but it must be another mage. I couldn't go myself because I would be performing the ritual. " Morrigan narrowed her eyes.

"That Ritual would be far too much for you to do on your own." She said quickly, the other staring at Jowan expectantly.

"Well yes...I would have to use the life force of another...and for this kind of ritual...all of it..." He finished quietly.

"Blood Magic?! J-Jowan...we can't..." Shaylar mumbled.

"Someone would have to die?" Teagan asked in disbelief.

"If someone must die, let it be me." Isolde said suddenly. Abbadon shook his head.

"No. We can't use blood magic Isolde. That opens all kind of doors we don't need to be opened." Isolde looked at him desperately.

"I must save Connor at any cost!" She snapped. Shaylar frowned, and feeling a sudden pressure on her hand, she found Alistair's squeezing her own. He knew they were running out of choices, as much as the rest did.

"We could go ask the circle for help." Abbadon offered, though Teagan shook his head.

"The trip is at least a day, just to get there. I don't know how much longer the demon will stay passive." Teagan mentioned, to which Abbadon nodded.

"I...don't think there are many other options Isolde, he-"

"No!" Isolde didn't let Teagan finish. "I refuse to let him die!" Alistair drew in a shaky breath.

"As much as I would hate to suggest slaying a child...he's an abomination."

"Don't call him such!" Isolde defended. Though everyone else in the room knew what had to be done. It was going to either be Connor's life, or countless others. The choice was clear, but Isolde's grief wasn't allowing her to see it.

"You think it'll be so easy?" A demonic voice beckoned from behind. They turned, instead of Connor, as they had expected, standing before them was a demon of pure white laced with purple. She didn't seem like she wanted to talk.

"I won't let you get rid of me so easily." She lunged towards Isolde, Teagan moving her from the way quickly.

"Connor!" Isolde called desperately, causing the demon to stop. She seemed to be fighting something in her head, staggering back, her form began to fade. Boy to demon, demon to boy, until Connor lay out on the floor before them.

"Connor, my baby!" Isolde screeched out, running to him. The group stepped back, allowing her to reach him against their own instinct.

"M-Mother..." the voice was surely Connor's as he looked at his mother weakly. "P-Please...it hurts..." Isolde hushed him. "It's alright...we'll get rid of the demon, baby..." she soothed, though Abbadon remained hard-faced.

"Isolde, we don't have another choice, if we did we would take it...it's too risky." His voice almost faded near the end of his sentence, and he swallowed hard. Shaylar frowned. She knew her brother was struggling, the first time he had shown outward signs.

"No, I-!"

"Mother...I'm sorry I called her...i-it hurts...please...I want it to stop..." Connor's voice snapped her eyes back to him, her eyes moving desperately between her son and the group. Morrigan watched as well, but could offer nothing. She knew as well as the others that he had to die, or nothing would be solved. More would die if they didn't kill the demon.

Alistair was trying to find fault with this as well. He wanted to be angry with Abbadon. At himself for suggesting the same thing. But he couldn't find the strength. He knew what was right. He owed so, so much more to the Arl than he was giving him. But there was nothing more he could think of to do. Going to the circle was too risky. There was no telling when they would be back.

"Please Connor, it will be okay...we...we can take you to Denerim, get you exorcised..." she was pleading now, though the demonic voice that came from Connor made Shaylar jump.

"Pathetic woman! You will not get rid of me-ahhh!" The voice belonged to Connor again.

"Mother..." He whimpered, and it seemed as if suddenly, Isolde realized something.

"You...are right Warden...I understand I..." Abbadon closed his eyes.

"I can do it, if you'd rather-"

"No. You are a stranger. Please...leave us a moment." Teagan took the chains that held Jowan, solemly leading them out into the next room. But Shaylar's heart broke as she heard Isolde draw a dagger, her helpless sobbing as she drove it into her son's chest.

* * *

As soon as they were in the hall, Alistair punched one of the walls with a force, his breath ragged. Shaylar in took a sharp breath as he pulled his fist back, knuckles red and bleeding. As Abbadon fled the corridor suddenly, she watched him helplessly. Though Morrigan shot her a look, one that assured she'd watch after him, her form shifting suddenly into a small feline creature as she darted after him. Jowan and Teagan looked on in solemn silence as Shaylar held onto Alistair, trying to keep him from hitting anything else.

"We should have come sooner.."

"Shh...I know." she murmured, similar to how she had comforted him back in the wilds. The door soon opened and Isolde came from the room, eyes puffy. Her gaze fell onto Alistair.

"This...this resulted from your arrival. You...were always nothing but trouble..." She said harshly, Alistair recoiling rather than defending himself. Teagan stepped forward.

"Isolde, it isn't Alistair's-"

"He and his companions did not arrive soon enough, they-!"

"Enough! Don't pin this on Alistair! He was the one who insisted on pushing our way up here when things got too heavy for us to get through! Alistair was the one who tried to help rescue your son despite how you treated him!" Shaylar shouted back at Isolde. Isolde sent her a cold look.

"What would you know about losing family? And now that the demon is gone, how long will it be before I lose my husband as well?" Shaylar's body stiffened.

"Everything." She began, her voice breaking. "I lost my family already. But it isn't too late to Salvage yours. And we will. Even if I think you're being an ungrateful bitch, I'm owing it to Alistair to save Eamon." She felt Alistair's shoulders stiffen under her hold.

"But the only way to do that is to find the urn..." Teagan said from the sidelines.

"Then we'll find it. Give us the information you've gotten so far. We'll get on the trail, and we'll find it." Her voice was determined, though Isolde seemed hopeless as she vanished back into the room to mourn her son. Teagan sighed softly.

"Regardless, I want to thank you. Even if we didn't save Connor, your devotion was shown in coming up here in the first place. I will give you what I have on the Urn. They say Brother Genitivi, the man who knew most about the Urn's Whereabouts, had last been spotted at a little Inn at lake Calenhad, the Spoiled Princess. Though none of my knights have come back from it...maybe you can find more." She nodded in thanks to Teagan, pushing Alistair to his feet as Teagan left with Jowan, leading the willing mage to what was likely another cell. But she couldn't focus on Jowan right now.

"Promise me something, Alistair." She said, glancing up into pained amber eyes. "I know this is hard for you...Isolde...she was never kind to you, and I see it was a tradition she held." she said, unable to hide the disgust with the woman in her voice.

"But I want you to promise to pull yourself together. I need you to help me through this. Abbadon isn't in the state of mind to lead right now. We need to take a group to find the urn, okay? You. me...we'll choose the others, and we'll go. But I need you to smile. I need to see something that makes me happy, in order to find our way to the urn. Can you promise me?" She pressed herself to his chest, taking unsure breaths.

"I can try-"

"No." There was a moment of silence before she felt his hand at the small of her back.

"I promise."

* * *

 **Author's note: This chapter quickly became much sadder than I expected. Apologies!**


	14. Honnleath

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late arrival of this chapter, I've been mapping out how I want to go about this adventure for the last few days and who I still wanted to introduce to the story. But please enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Honnleath and Abbadon's Decision**

* * *

"I still do not see why we could not have taken the easier path to the lake. Instead we're gallivanting aboutnobody knows where in the south somewhere." Morrigan said aloud as the horse's hooves clattered against the cobblestone of the highway. Once Alistair had recovered enough from his stupor over Connor, Shaylar had chosen for them a team consisting of herself, Alistair, and Morrigan, that would set out on the trail of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. It was truly Arl Eamon's last hope, and she had to wonder how many things they had tried to recover the Arl's health before they had come to relying on ancient tales. But whoever he was, this Brother Genetivi seemed to be closer to cracking this myth than most were. The trouble was finding him.

"I rather like gallivanting. Besides, you know what they said Morrigan, the route we wanted to take was teaming with Darkspawn. Now I don't know about you, but since it's just the three of us I'd rather not risk running into too many brigades of those things." Morrigan scowled as her horse caught up to theirs, but she didn't say much more about it. All three of them had known that this trip was not going to simply take a few days. A month? Two months? No one could really say for sure, save for Brother Genitivi himself. Shaylar's grip around Alistair's waist tightened slightly as she thought of what had happened on the last night the group was all together.

* * *

 _"Abbadon...are you sure about this?" Shaylar asked as the band of misfits they had gathered since Lothering sat around the fire together, all rather tense about the current situation. Even Sten and Morrigan, who usually didn't find their way around the fire, were there today. Abbadon had called it an important meeting so there they were._

 _"I'm positive. Shaylar, you and I both know once you, Alistair, and Morrigan set off, there's no telling when you'll be back." if at all, that was the phrase that would leave no one's lips. Though all of them knew it was possible, if most of the knights that Bann Teagan had sent looking for the Urn could account for that. "So the rest of us can't just sit around and wait for you to return. We have to do something." What Abbadon had proposed had been pretty simple to follow._

 _They would seek the Urn, and take the horses, a tent or so, and a few other supplies with them. Abbadon would speak to Bann Teagan, perhaps borrow a few horses from Redcliffe. And then, the rest of the group would set off to find the Dalish Elves, who had apparently been spotted in the east . Roland cleared his throat, to input on the matter._

 _"I have to say I agree with Abbadon. You know as well as we do that the world isn't going to stop turning just because you're off on some grand myth chase." Leliana nodded._

 _"It does sound like a good idea. Perhaps by the time you return from your journey, we will have settled a treaty or two." Perhaps they were correct, but Shaylar still couldn't account for the worry that bubbled at her stomach._

 _"I shall follow the male Warden." Shaylar gave a sideward glance to Sten, turning it into a sort of half glare. No matter what she did, Sten would not simply believe that a Grey Warden could be a woman, though she stood right before him. Alistair seemed un-amused as well._

 _"You know, I also happen to be a Grey Warden."_

 _"...it is still hard for me to believe that either. You shriek very loudly at the sight of Giant Spiders."_

 _"Those things are creepy! And I only shrieked once."_

 _"It was enough." Abbadon silenced them both._

 _"Getting back to the point, it's more productive. We will return to Redcliffe when our business is finished. If the three of you happen to get back first, then wait for us."_

* * *

Abbadon never hesitated in the face of duty and destiny. But she found herself missing him already. Ever since the attack on Castle Cousland, she had been terrified of losing him. No one had the slightest clue what might happen in the next month or so. They could die...or the other half of their little band. Either way, the whole situation left her with a sinking feeling that she didn't like, settled within her belly. Alistair looked back at her, though his grip on Dusty's reins did not falter.

"Are you alright?" He asked, to which she nodded slightly.

"Yeah. I just hope that Abbadon and the others will be alright." She spoke evenly, though it did little for Morrigan's patience.

"I think at current, you should be more worried about us." and she couldn't exactly tell Morrigan she was wrong, because she wasn't. Their group should have been her main concern, and in time it would be. But leaving Abbadon had left a hole in her gut that she couldn't quite settle.

"I suppose. Our main focus right now, is getting to that inn, and finding out where Brother Genitivi might have gone." Alistair pursed his lips for a moment, seeming deep in thought. Of course, Morrigan was there to jump right on it.

"Don't think too hard, I can see the smoke billowing from your ears." Alistair rolled his eyes, though it did seem he had something to say.

"What if we don't find the clues we're looking for? Where will we go then?" Shaylar thought about the question, her fingers linking together at the ex-templar's mid-section.

"If he was there, maybe the Innkeeper overheard him. We'll figure something out." She promised, though she wasn't so confident on how keeping such a promise was going to go. For now, she just had to remain positive about finding something at the lake. For a moment, there was a silence between the three of them, the air thick as they considered what might happen if they couldn't find the lead they were looking for.

"...is that a village ahead?" Alistair's voice was clear as he pointed out what they were coming up on. And a village it did seem to be. But the sounds of heavy grunting, and shrieking told them that it wasn't exactly finding itself in a good time.

* * *

"Damn Morrigan, how did you get so fast with your spell casting? You claimed my point." Shaylar had a frown on her face as she lowered the Crossbow that they had purchased for her shortly before leaving Redcliffe. Certainly, it was much faster for shooting, but came nowhere close to Morrigan's quick ways with a fire spell. That was something she was sure of as she watched the powered spell fly right into the face of a Darkspawn that had been nearest to her.

"Practice." Morrigan responded simply. They were mostly trying to keep the bulk of the herd of Darkspawn away from Alistair. They seemed to be attracted to the gleam of his armor, but a quick spell, and arrow usually deflected them from Alistair as they tried to claw at his back. She watched as Alistair pushed his sword through one of the larger Hurlocks for a final time, watching the slime ooze from the blade as he pulled it back out.

"Ugh...I like this a lot better when it isn't dripping..." He muttered, waving the sword around and letting the blood spatter from it, flecking onto the ground as the Hurlock's blood pooled around his boots.

"We've got more to worry about around here than a dirty longsword." Thankfully, they had found a vacant house, and with no sign of a stable, they had stored Dusty and Hohaku safely within its walls, after they had killed the Darkspawn just outside the house. She didn't know if anyone still lived in the village, but cleaning the house would be left to them once they took off, that was for sure.

As they came to the center of the village, she slowed to a stop. Alistair, who had been directly behind her, nearly crashing into her smaller form. She however, didn't seem to notice him lightly bumping into her, as her eyes were transfixed on something that stood within the center of the village. She had seen a sign earlier. Was it... Honnleath? Yes, it had been something like that. Shaylar moved towards it, her hand touching the cold stone of what seemed to simply be a giant statue. Her gazed was transfixed on the blue crystals that adorned its shoulders.

"What...is it?" Shaylar asked, tilting her head to the side. Morrigan's golden-yellow eyes scanned the statue herself.

"T'is a Golem, or so it looks to be anyway. Though such creatures are rare to see here on the surface."

"What do you mean?" When Morrigan stopped talking to observe the creature more thoroughly, Alistair picked up where she left off, though he didn't move to touch the statue. It was probably the menacing position it was in, looking poised for attack, that made him less inclined to go near it. Though Shaylar seemed fascinated.

"Most Golems were apparently made by the dwarves a long time ago...which is why they're usually found underground, if at all. No one knows how they were made or even how to control them." He explained. "Except for the dwarves, I suppose." He watched her a moment, noticing the light within her eyes.

"Wouldn't it be so...interesting if this one was real?" She asked. Morrigan sighed at how long that Shaylar was taking to simply stare at a statue. She was lucky that it seemed they had cleared out the Darkspawn.

"Interesting or not, might I suggest we come back to the matter at hand?" She asked, Shaylar stopping to give her a quizzical look. The apostate responded simply by directing her attention to a trail of blood leading to a door, from the statue itself. She pulled back from it, nodding sheepishly.

"That. Let's do that." she said, clearing her throat before leading Alistair and Morrigan in the direction the blood trail was taking them.

* * *

"Oh thank goodness...we were afraid no one was going to come." A man called from behind a magical barrier. Their trail had led them deep into a basement. They weren't sure where they had been headed, and Morrigan had mentioned getting too far off track, but it was like something was compelling her to stay. She just wasn't sure what it was, but she was almost determined to stay until she found out.

"What are you all...doing down here? You know...aside from avoiding the face-eating Darkspawn. Was there no chance for you to escape before they got here?" Alistair questioned as the seeming apostate who had been keeping up the barrier brought it down.

"Ah..well yes." the same apostate stepped over to them, wringing out his hands. "We may have...if we had any indication that they were coming at all. I am the only protection they have had against these creatures, with my barriers...but I won't leave."

"Sounds like a fools notion to me." Morrigan picked up, and he only looked at her briefly, before returning his gaze to Alistair.

"Why won't you leave? You...know it isn't safe here." Shaylar mentioned, to which he nodded.

"My daughter...I-I'm Matthias, and my daughter's name is Amalia. My father was a great mage named Wilhelm. I...can't use magic, but I've been using the defenses my father left to defend the villagers while we've been trapped her." Not an apostate. Morrigan seemed satiated, likely because she hadn't been sensing any magic coming from the man himself. "A-Anyway...she ran off, further into my father's lab. I can't go in there are...horrible sounding things down there. But I want to find her...Alive or...otherwise." Morrigan drew in a breath and held it. She knew what was coming. Family matters always seemed to strike a chord with the female Grey Warden, and she realized that soon they'd be delved deep in the heart of a problem they didn't need to be involved in.

"I'll help...I mean..we'll help." And there it was. "But first...can you tell me anything about that statue outside?" She noticed his disgusted look right away. He didn't seemed pleased to even be thinking about it.

"Ugh...I see you've seen Shale." Alistair blinked.

"It has a name."

"Of course. It's a Golem, one my father found in some Thaig somewhere. He always had a knack for collecting things and bragging about them later. Shale was one of those things. He used something called a control rod to keep it in line. But one day we found it hunched over his body."

"...she killed him?" It seemed strange to him, that she was even giving it a gender, but Alistair had noted her fascination with the statue outside.

"It's the only explanation. So my mother had the bloody thing put there, we haven't moved it since." Shaylar bit her lip.

"Would she be...able to be revived?" Both her companions seemed confused, but Matthias shook his head.

"Don't know why you'd want the damn thing. I still have the control rod here...if you want it. Even have the word my father used to get it moving. But...I won't give them to you unless you bring me Amalia...or any news." Shaylar agreed and tugged Alistair in the direction of the door Morrigan had already been standing by reluctantly expectant.

"What do you want with the Golem, Shaylar?" Alistair asked as she opened the door. She turned, smiling slightly.

"Let's get the girl first, we can talk about that later."

"But I wanted to talk about it no-" But she had already delved into the basement, pretending to be out of earshot. He sighed lightly, he and Morrigan trailing in after her.

* * *

"How do I always end up covered in blood?" Shaylar asked as they entered a room deep within Wilhelm's lab. They'd have to worry about finding somewhere to wash up later. The humming of a young girl brought their attention to the center of the room. A little girl in cute little pigtails sat on the floor, playing with an orange tabby cat.

"Oh kitty look! do you wanna play with us?" She asked, jumping to her feet excitedly. They could only assume this girl was Amalia.

"Amalia? You're father is really worried about you. I think you should come with us, we'll take you back to him." Amalia frowned however, kneeling down next to the cat.

"Kitty says that I need to stay here with her. She'll get lonely if I leave."

"...It's a cat." Alistair stated, looking at the cat. Though it stared back at him, like it understood him. Something about the feline creeped him out.

"It is no lie that I have told her she must stay." The cats eyes began flashing as it...spoke. Alistair nearly stumbled behind Shaylar, who seemed just as bewildered.

"Not an ordinary feline, t'would seem." Morrigan commented. Though it turned its attention on them, Amalia seemed to pay no mind to her next words.

"Maybe you can help me, where this girl has failed." She mewed, though Shaylar still kept her guard up...despite being up against a tiny feline.

"I wish to be free of this place. That fool Wilhelm trapped me here eons ago. I just...wish to see the world through this girl's eyes." So it was a demon. Morrigan pulled her staff from her back.

"No. We're not going to let you do that." Shaylar stared simply. Amalia seemed confused as she looked between the two parties.

"...Do what? Kitty?" The feline instead raised her hackles, and her form began to shift and change. Terrified, Amalia ran and hid behind the doorway, just past Shaylar and her companions. It stood bare in front of them, clad in nothing but white and purple skin. A desire demon.

"I will have my way, by one set of means or the other!" She sent a large ball of energy their way, the three separating quickly to avoid the blow. Morrigan and Shaylar moved to attack, when Alistair suddenly stopped, crying out in pain.

"Alistair?!" Shaylar asked. The demon hovered there, smirking.

"That's right pet...you are the perfect vessel to do my bidding..." she said, Alistair seeming to be slowly overtaken by something.

"Yes, love." Alistair said finally, lifting his sword at this demon's silent command.

"No! She bewitched him!" Shaylar called to Morrigan as she jumped out of the way when his sword came crashing down close enough to slice at her.

"Of all the times for his head to be totally empty..." Morrigan murmured as she kept an eye on the demon, trying to determine when to strike. Shaylar would not strike him, but narrowly avoided the blows that came her way.

"It's either reconsidering my offer or losing your friend..." Shaylar found it increasingly hard to breath each swing that Alistair took at her.

"No...you can't have him!" she insisted. Morrigan finally turned, casting what seemed to be a glyph that stunned Alistair enough for Shaylar to grab him, kissing him without thinking about it. The paralyzed man's dulled eyes became bright again, and..so did his face.

"For making me watch this." The demon hadn't noticed Morrigan behind her, and the witch finally struck her down with a powered spell. The demon screamed, before writhing in pain as Morrigan finished her off. Shaylar pulled away from Alistair, unwrapping her arms from around him and walking towards the door.

"W-What? Are we...at least going to talk about that? I mean...not that I don't find it...interesting but we can't just not talk about it every time you do that."

"Nope. Morrigan wasn't going to do it." Alistair blushed, covering his mouth as he watched her head for the door with Morrigan, picking up the girl on her way out.

"Maker, woman..." he murmured before following behind them.

* * *

In exchange for his daughter, he had given her the control rod, and the words to activate the Golem which Matthias had called "Shale." As she held the rod, she said these same words, and the Golem swung to life. It seemed to stretch, before looking down at the three companions.

"...it has my rod." it said, looking directly at Shaylar now with glowing blue eyes. Shaylar nodded.

"You're Shale, right?"

"That is unless it prefers Pebbles, Rubble..." it continued with rock related names and Shaylar couldn't get a word until it was finished.

"Just...how long have you been standing here?" She asked, looking around.

"I suppose since the day that fool mage met his end." it said. "Though I cannot imagine why it cares for that information. I have been forced to sit and watch these villagers plod along for I am unsure...many, many years." She looked upon Shale for a while before clearing her throat.

"Is it alright if I call you a she?" Shale seemed to blink.

"I do not care what it refers to me as."

"Wait Wait...you watched the villagers, let's go back to that." Alistair interjected. "For years. and they had no idea. Creepy..." He finished, Shaylar pushing his arm slightly. Morrigan cleared her throat.

"One would wonder why you are not grateful to the one who allowed you to stretch your legs, Golem."

"Oh...another mage. Wonderful." Shale seemed less than enthused but when she had addressed her old master, who was also a mage from what she understood, Shaylar noted how un-thrilled she seemed.

"Tell me, are all the villagers dead?"

"No, just fled."

"Damn. I had hoped it would bring me better news."

"I'm a she."

"It is offended?"

"I..." She decided not to finish. Maybe this was just Shale's thing.

"It is quite strange...you have my control rod...I see it but I do not feel...the need to carry out any command. Quick, tell me to do something." Shaylar couldn't think of anything to ask.

"Walk over there?" Alistair half questioned, half commanded.

"...and I feel nothing! How peculiar.

"T'was because you were ordered so by a halfwit." Morrigan added to Alistair's dismay.

"Well...I wasn't planning on using this to control you anyway. I just...found it unfair that you had to sit out here like this."

"I suppose I should thank it." Shaylar smiled slightly.

"But what are you going to do now?"

"I suppose I shall follow it, provided it does not mind...not that I care much if it does. This village has far too many birds for my liking...filthy little creatures. Aside from this, I have no other purpose, despite my new found free will." Alistair leaned down.

"Tell me you aren't considering-"

"Sounds like a plan."

"...Perfect." He felt he should have known.


	15. Going around in Circle (Towers) Part I

**Chapter 14: Going Around in Circle (Towers) Part I**

* * *

"Shale." The Golem didn't seem to be listening to her as they all huddled around the campfire. The night had been particularly cold, so they had figured it would better to stop than to press the horses to go any further. Dusty and Hohaku seemed grateful for it, as they remained close yet far enough from the warm fire to be comfortable. Shaylar continued to stare into Shale's glowing blue eyes.

"I still cannot see how it is one of these 'Grey Wardens' I have heard so much about."

"Shale."

"It is much too...squishy to be a great warrior."

"Shale..."

"And surely these...noodles it calls arms this small cannot handle a sword properly. It does not seem to have the capability-"

"Shale! I would appreciate it if you would put me down." Shaylar mentioned, finally getting the Golem to listen though she was still suspended in the air by Shale's powerful stone arms. She was sometimes nervous around the Golem indeed. She had claimed many times having to find the restraint not to squish them while they slept. While she was glad for the restraint she showed, it didn't take the nerves away.

"I'm getting really tired of eating birds. Can't we catch something else for once?" Alistair said from beside the fire as Shale finally set Shaylar onto the ground. Shaylar dusted off her armor, turning back.

"Well I mean..." She paused, looking up at Shale with a slight frown. While she had proved useful in the longer while of traveling with them...she sometimes concerned the Grey Warden.

"If the Golem would simply stop killing the birds, we would not have to eat them." Morrigan finished where Shaylar had hesitated. While it was true that they could just leave all the birds that Shale had killed aside, Shaylar continued to insist it was better to eat them then to waste them. But she could have made soft downy pillows ten times over with how many feathers they had plucked from said birds, she was convinced.

"I still cannot believe that you humans...eat those vile things." Shale said in disgust as Shaylar sat back down beside Morrigan.

"There's nothing wrong with eating birds. We know you have that bird thing but they taste pretty good, once you rip the feathers off...they'd taste better if we hadn't been eating them every night, though." Shale made a noise of disgust as Alistair continued to tend to the fire. Shaylar stared at the deep orange flames for a moment as she thought of how the other half of their group might be doing. She was sure Abbadon was leading them properly, after all he had always been much better at the whole leadership thing than herself. She had been taught the proper skills, sure. But she wasn't all that keen on using them most of the time, content rather to follow the instructions of her brother. She actually probably would have run the group into a wreck eventually, she was sure had Abbadon not survived Ostagar. Though a thought came to her, and she found herself expressing it to the others.

"You know...I know it's been quite a while, but I still sometimes wonder how Abbadon managed to get from Ostagar to Lothering. I mean...I'm not too sure I buy the whole dropped off by a bear story..." Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"And who would believe us if we told them that we were plucked off the top of a tower by a giant bird who also happened to be the Witch of the Wilds?" Shale grunted.

"I would not believe what it says."

"...You're a giant mass of stone, I think sometimes that would be harder to believe." Alistair countered, though Shale's expression didn't change.

"Humans have seen more than one of us."

"Dragons exist. Those are pretty much giant birds, aren't they?"

"It does not have a valid argument."

"You-wait when did I become an it?" Shaylar turned her attention from the bickering pair to look over at Morrigan. She seemed to be thinking about something, though the look on her face wouldn't give away what it was, though with Morrigan, Shaylar usually expected nothing else. Though she thought maybe she should ask.

"Morrigan, you alright?" Morrigan looked at her, whatever she had previously been thinking about gone.

"What? Why would I not be alright?" Shaylar shrugged for just a moment, looking up briefly and thanking Alistair quietly as he handed her a bowl of the stew that Morrigan had been warming on the fire. It was chicken again, but she appreciated the warm feel as she took a sip of the broth.

"I don't know, sometimes it seems like you think too hard about some things." She responded. Morrigan drew her lips into a thin line for a moment.

"I am fine...one would hope you aren't concerned about me." Shaylar laughed warmly, taking another bite of stew.

"Well of course Morrigan, whether you like it or not we're stuck together. I don't mind personally, but you have to get used to it." Morrigan took pause for a moment. It was while saying certain things she noted Morrigan wasn't sure how to respond.

"I...hm." was all the apostate said before she turned to grab some of her own stew. Shaylar turned her attention back to Alistair and Shale, the ex-templar was trying to convince Shale to try some of the stew.

"Come near me with that and I will make sure that its head is squished tonight." Ah yes, the sounds and saying of friendship.

* * *

"Isn't it strange?" Alistair asked as the horses slowed to the stop at the bank of Lake Calenhad. It did seem rather quiet, for the base of operations of both the mages and the Templars in Ferelden. It was perhaps the most well guarded place in the region. And yet there were less guards than ever hanging about.

"You'd think there'd be more bustle, yet there's hardly a single sign of life." Spare one Templar, Shaylar noted to herself as she peeked out from behind Alistair, seeing the man standing on the dock by a well sized boat. He didn't seem like he was too interested in whatever job he had though. Shaylar thought to the treaties that she held for the mages. Abbadon had handed it to her since she had been headed in the direction of the lake anyway, but she wasn't sure if they would have had the time to stop there, though her brother's logic did make sense.

"Maybe we should check in with them, and talk about the treaties." She mentioned, Shale seemed less than amused with the idea.

"It wants to take me within a tower filled with mages?" She asked, clearly not happy with how she was thinking. Shaylar sighed.

"You can stay here if you want."

"It has much less of a chance in succeeding in its already bleak seeming task without me along." Shale responded, earning a grunt of displeasure from the Cousland.

"You know- Never mind, let's go talk to the Templar." She muttered, sliding off the horse just after Alistair. They trailed over to the dock, the Templar seemed to spook easy with the sight of the large Golem looming just behind the rest of the group.

"Hold there, travelers. I have orders not to let anyone pass to the tower." He spoke clearly, though his voice was a little shaky.

"We need to speak to the mages. We're on official Grey Warden business, and we'll only speak to them about it." Shaylar figured bringing the name up to them would mean something, but he only raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Grey Warden huh? Prove it."

"Prove it, how exactly?" Alistair asked as he crossed his arms.

"Do some...Grey Wardening or something."

"Grey Warden'ing' is not something you do, it's what you are, and we're Grey Wardens, so I'd think about letting us past." Though the Templar didn't seem interested in letting them by.

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Antiva. What do you think of that?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. Shale seemed perplexed.

"I have always thought queens were...female. Though it does look rather feminine..."

"H-Hey, don't question royalty! Anyway, I can't let you past so get on, shoo." Shale stood taller behind them.

"Let us past, or I shall take great joy in squishing your rather large head." She threatened, and it was then the Templar seemed to get nervous.

"You wouldn't..." Alistair clicked his tongue.

"I don't know, she does tend to get a bit testy..."

"Alright F-Fine, in the boat...though I'm going to have to make a second trip for your stony f-friend." Shale seemed pleased.

"Excellent choice, it has wonderful decision making skills."

* * *

The Tower was oddly quiet, they found as they entered through its doors. Why? Well they weren't really sure. While Alistair seemed more or less comfortable in the environment, Morrigan seemed irritated, Shale as well, though that was due to her hearing there were a lot of mages within the tower. But Shaylar herself didn't know what to think of the place. It was too quiet. There should have been more people, at least people that weren't Templars. But something made her feel as if something wasn't right. Something was wrong here, she just didn't know what.

"Make sure that those doors are sealed shut." She heard as her group headed towards the one man that looked as though he were in charge. He had a head and beard full of gray hair. His eyes told of much more that he knew, that he understood. They didn't know what was wrong with the tower, but he turned to them upon being disrupted by Shale's loud, clomping footsteps along the floor. His eyes grazed the group, the Templar standing tall.

"Who let you lot in here?" Alistair matched his look with one of his own. The Ex-Templar seemed to be used to dealing with these types of people, so Shaylar shrunk back, letting him deal with it. Everyone they had picked up had their own sort of strength that picked up in the places other people lacked. This, whether he realized it or not, was one of Alistair's places.

"Can you tell me something? Are those doors keeping someone out? Or in?" He questioned, his voice clear. The man seemed hesitant to answer.

"Why would you need to know something like that." Shaylar cleared her throat softly, taking the man's attention for just a moment.

"We're Grey Wardens...we're here to seek the help of the mages from this tower." The man however, didn't seem all that interested in what she had to say. His frown only deepened as she handed him the treaty she had fished from her pack.

"I understand you have an agreement...but I'm afraid the mages are...indisposed." He explained, turning to stare at the closed off iron door.

"What do you mean?" Alistair asked next.

"To put it frankly, we no longer have control of the tower. Abominations have been running wild within those doors. Those walls are stained with blood, and I've called for the right of Annulment." Morrigan raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask any question she may have been holding.

"The right of annulment?"

"They're going to wipe out whatever mages might still be in the tower." Alistair explained, looking down at her. The man briefly introduced himself as Greagoir, and explained that they wouldn't do this had they any other choice.

"Then let us help you." Shaylar said, causing the commander to raise an eyebrow. She got questioning looks from Shale and Morrigan, but neither said a word, for the moment, staring quietly ahead.

"Are you sure you want to do that? Do you need their help desperately?" Shaylar nodded.

"Just one mage can turn the tides of battle in the end, ser." she responded. Greagoir seemed to think for a moment.

"Fine. But be warned, once you are through those doors we will not open them. Not unless I hear word from the first enchanter himself that everything is destroyed within those walls that needs to be." Shaylar nodded. Though Shale and Morrigan didn't seem pleased. She bit her lip gently. She supposed that she couldn't please everyone, and Shale and Morrigan were the two unlucky ones whom she had managed not to please.

* * *

Making sure their weapons were fresh for battle hadn't taken long. As she trailed into the long, bloodied hallway after Alistair, she couldn't really figure out what to do with what she saw. She bit down on her lip so hard that it nearly drew blood. The darkened walls were covered in thick red blood, the floor as well. Bodies of various mages and templars were spewed out across the floor in various places. She directed her gaze to the shield on Alistair's back, reaching out and tracing the pattern on it absently.

"It is nervous?" She heard Shale's voice sound from behind her, and jumped slightly, turning her head.

"I guess..."

"T'was you who offered to come in here." Morrigan reminded her. She knew that. Of course she knew that. But it didn't make it any easier to take in the sights around her. It almost reminded her of the night at the castle. Oriana and Oren laying in pools of blood, bodies thrown about the floor of the place she had once called home, suddenly turned into a nightmare. She shivered, though tried not to slow in her steps.

"The point now is that we have to find the remaining mages...if any." Alistair said pointedly at Morrigan's statement. A menacing growl had them running towards the end of the hall, finding a large demon making its way towards their door as two young children scattered. But as a woman jumped out in front of it, it had not a chance, making quick work of it with her magic.

"Stay back, I do not wish it but I will strike you down where you stand if I must." Shaylar was about to try and smooth out the situation when they caught each other's eyes.

"W-Wynne?" Yes, she recognized her. The Circle Mage from Ostagar! Wynne seemed to recognize her as well, which Shaylar gave her credit for, despite her being so much older, her memory was indeed spot on.

"The Grey Warden from Ostagar?" She nodded slightly, stepping out from behind Alistair. Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"You know her?"

"I met her on the first day at Ostagar."

"Shaylar...yes I remember...I knew Greagoir wouldn't let just anyone past those doors..." she murmured thoughtfully as the children cowered behind her.

"I..." Shaylar looked to the door, hearing Shale grunt. She really did have a strong dislike for mages, but they had to come here. They had to help. "Greagoir has ordered the right of annulment...it's not here but..."

"So he really does think we are beyond hope..." Wynne murmured to herself.

"No you're not. We'll help you." Wynne looked up at about the same time as Morrigan.

"If you agree to help...and take me with you, I can lower the barrier."

"Done deal." Morrigan opened her mouth to protest.

"Are we really going to be helping this...preachy school mage?" She asked, looking a little more than irritated. Shaylar thought for a moment.

"Yes. And guess who gets to stay and help defend the schoolchildren?" Morrigan glared at her a moment, before turning and heading to a far wall. Shaylar would have figured she would be a little happier, not having to head further into the tower. But she supposed the mention of children had ruined that for her. Without another thought, she turned back to Wynne.

"Lower it when you're ready. We're good to go."


End file.
